It was so simple
by Vintage Tea Party
Summary: He never planned to reveal his secret to her this way. But he had never expected to be without Abe either.
1. The Confession

Ch. 1: The Confession

Henry had never planned to tell Jo like this. He had always planned to sit her down and explain it all out, calmly and logically. Well, he had always _wanted_ to do it that way. Deep down though he had always known he never would do that. He was far too afraid of her rejection to sit down and tell her willing and rationally. He knew that some event would rip the secret from him, that he would have to explain it all out of shear need. But he had never imagined that the circumstances surrounding the reveal of his secret could ever be this desperate. Then again he had never thought he'd ever be living in a world without Abraham either.

Henry always knew it would end like this. From the very beginning he had known that he would find himself at this end. Henry was immortal but Abe was not. Therefore, Henry had always known he'd outlive his son. But he supposed that he had still held on to a hope that somehow death would evade his son just as it had eluded him. It had been a fool's hope of course. But he knew he'd held on to it none the less because he was completely surprised to find himself here in this moment.

Abraham had gone, quietly in his sleep. It was the best Henry could have hoped for, if a parent could have hopes about such a thing. As someone who had experienced many deaths over the years, many of them quite painful, he knew he should feel grateful that Abe hadn't suffered at all in the end. He'd not even known death was coming. And Henry was grateful for that. He was very thankful that Abe had not experienced the pain of death or the fear of its coming. But the gratitude he felt did not even come close to outweighing the despair he felt over that death. It had happened so suddenly, without any warning or indication, that Henry had not seen it coming and had not been prepared at all for it. While the surprise of it had been a kindness to Abraham it had added to the pain for Henry. As long as he lived he would never forget how terrible it had been to go to his son's room and find that he was gone.

Henry stared at the old carousel from his place on the bench beside it. It was quiet in this part of the park as the carousel had been out of service for decades now and Henry was glad for the company of the silence. He stared at the carousel that was now broken and neglected but he could remember a time when it was new and had been filled with children. Among them many times had been his child. There had been a time, when Abe had been so young, that he had begged Henry to go nearly every day. Of course, Henry had never been able to say no to his son and he'd spent many an afternoon on this bench watching as Abe circled round and round waving to Henry as he passed by. The carousel, while a reminder of those good times, now also stood as a sad testament of how far he had come from those good days.

Henry buried his face in his hands, unable to look at it as the pain of all he'd lost hit him deep inside again. He reminded himself that none of this should be a surprise to him; he'd always known it was coming. It was one of the reasons he had used to try and talk himself out of adopting Abe in the first place. But that had been a lost cause from the very beginning. He'd fallen in love with that baby from the first time he'd held him. Though Abe had not been his own biologically, Henry had felt an instant connection with him as if he were his own. He could never turn his back on Abe. He had made that "impulsive commitment" Abigail had spoken of but he had always known that commitment would be for the rest of Abe's life and not his own. But knowing it was coming had not prepared Henry at all for accepting it at and made no part of this any easier. Though his life was never ending it felt like it was over. It seemed as if everything that meant anything in it was gone forever.

Even with his head in his hands and the depth to which he was lost in his thoughts it was easy to hear her approaching before she ever spoke. He wasn't sure if he wanted her here or not. If she were here to try and get him to talk the he was sure he would rather just be alone. He knew he didn't want that. But if she were coming just to be with him he found that he really wanted that. His loneliness seemed to scream out at the idea of having her company.

"Henry?" Jo spoke quietly as she approached from behind.

"Detective," he greeted hollowly, lifting his head from his hands but not turning around to look at her.

"Hi, Henry," she said as she walked around to sit beside him on the bench. She had a sympathetic smile on her face when he glanced in her direction. He turned around facing the carrousel once again as she sat down next to him.

She had been the first one to arrive at his home after it had happened. She had rushed right over after he'd made the call, literally running up the stairs to get there as fast as she could. She found him still in shock slumped against the wall outside of Abe's room. Her eyes had been filled with tears and her face was full of the most genuine sympathy he'd ever glimpsed in his life. She had offered no words to console him only her touch as she had rushed to embrace him. He remembered that hug and how good it had felt to hold on to her as an anchor when the very world around him seemed to be spinning out of all reason.

Remembering it now, and wanting that again, he briefly wondered why he had kept his distance from her in these past weeks. She had been such a strength to him in those first few days following Abe's death. She'd been such a help and he knew that she was the only reason he'd ever survived any of it. But after the funeral he had pulled away from everyone, her included. He hadn't seen anyone or accepted any calls in weeks. He hadn't wanted to withdrawal from everyone and at times he didn't even know why he was doing it. Especially with her. She understood what it was to be in grief and he could feel that difference in the way she dealt with his as opposed to others who had offered their sympathies.

But having her here now, right beside him, he remembered why he had distanced himself from her as well. It was because of the barrier he felt, the barrier between them that he had created with his lies. No one understood what he was going through. And it wasn't just in the way that one person could never truly understand the grief of another. It was more than that. No one even knew what it was he was mourning. They all thought it was grief over losing a dear friend he felt. No one knew that it was the loss of a child he was feeling, a loss so great it should be in a class all its own.

Even Jo, with all the help he knew she wanted to be for him, didn't know that. He wanted the help and the comfort he knew she could give but even more than that he wanted her to _really _know what it was he was suffering. With her around it was too hard to ignore that want, a want that was quickly turning into a need. He was too raw, the pain too great, for him to be able to hold up the facade that he constantly wore, the one that protected his secret. His grief was making him feel like he didn't even want to do that anymore and that was a dangerous place to be. Being isolated from everyone was the only way to protect himself from his own grief-stricken recklessness.

"I'm surprised to see you here," he said. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"I'm a detective. I have my ways," she said with a light smile.

He nodded, consenting to her logic. "Yes, I suppose you have."

"Well, it wasn't the first place I looked," she admitted. "I tried several before I thought of this place. I remember that Abe had mentioned it once." Just hearing her say his name tore into Henry. "Did he used to bring you here?"

It was just an innocent question. He knew she was only trying to start a conversation when a conversation wasn't easily had. But it only cast a spotlight on the secrets he held, wretched secrets he didn't want anymore.

"Something like that," he said stiffly, looking ahead. He could see her out of the corner of his eye and he could tell she felt she had struck a nerve. She became silent, dropping the subject. He knew that must not be easy for her because as she sat there quiet he saw as she stared at the carousel ahead of them. She was studying it and was no doubt coming to the correct assumption that it had not be operational for several decades, so long in fact that it might have already been close before Henry's supposed 35 years of life. But she didn't ask any more questions about that certain subject since she could see that it was upsetting for him.

Henry was hit by a brief shot of guilt. Jo was only trying to help and he was making it difficult. She had been nothing but good to him and she'd not gotten much in return for her efforts. It wasn't her fault she didn't know the truth.

"Thank you," he said breaking the silence, glancing over at her. "For the food. And everything else. I don't know if I've even thanked you for everything you've done."

In the weeks since the funeral, Jo had tried to call him several times but he had never picked up. When she didn't get through on the phone she had started to show up at his door but he'd never answered. After those efforts failed she had taken to having food delivered to his house. She must have ordered the delivery people not to take no for an answer (and surely given them a decent tip) because they rang the bell until he finally answered the door. Every time he tried to pay them they told him it had already been taken care of. Of course, he'd known it was her. He couldn't think of anyone else who would have been so persistent; or anyone who would be so patient with him. He knew that if it went for her he probably wouldn't have eaten.

"You're welcome," she said with a smile on her face. It led him to believe that he hadn't thanked her yet which was disgraceful. That coupled with the look of fondness on her face that she still had for him despite his actions made him look away again in shame.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you," she said after a moment's pause. "Lucas has been calling me every day asking me if I've heard from you," she said with a slight smile in her voice.

If Henry had to guess he would have to say it had probably been three weeks since he'd seen Jo or Lucas for that matter. He didn't know for sure because he'd lost all track of time. They had both been at the funeral, along with the others he'd met through his work with Jo and the NYPD. He'd actually been surprised to find out he'd made so many friends, some of them solely there for him since they'd not known Abe. They'd all been very supportive but he'd not seen or talked with any of them since.

"I'm sorry if he's been bothering you on account of me."

"He's not bothering me," Jo said honestly. "He's worried about you. And so am I. I haven't seen you in weeks. You haven't returned any of my calls."

"I'm sorry," Henry said and he truly was. He really didn't want to worry anyone. "I just...I can't..." he said shaking his head and putting it in one of his hands.

"I get it," she said and he knew she really did understand. "I didn't expect you to come back to work right away. I just wanted to know you were alright."

"Well, I'm not," he said flatly, but it was the honest truth.

She nodded, agreeing. "Tell me how you're feeling," she said gently turning her body towards him and looking at him. It was invitation to him, to really open up to her. He could feel how kind the offer was, how she was offering herself as a safe place to land once he'd fallen to pieces. He wanted so much to take her up on that offer and he could feel that there was only a thin string of restraint holding him together still.

"I can't," he said avoiding her gaze and the encouragement that her body language was giving. His voice was full of the agony he felt and he hoped she would sense it and not push it. But he knew she wouldn't drop this. For his own good she wasn't going to let him off this hook this time.

"It will make you feel better. It really will," she said placing a brief hand on his shoulder.

The quick touch was almost enough to undo him. He wanted nothing more than to be able to do that but he couldn't. "I believe you, Detective. I do. I just can't."

"Henry...I thought we were friends."

"We are."

"Then why don't you trust me? I trust you. And I've been through loss; if you're embarrassed, you don't need to be. You can cry or scream, whatever; I've done it all already. "

Henry didn't say anything. He had no other defense to offer her but he also wasn't going to give in just yet.

"It's been three weeks...since..." she started cautiously.

"And what? I should be over it by now? I should have moved on because he was only a friend of mine?" Henry snapped. There was more venom in his words than she had expected and she wasn't quite sure where it had come from. She recoiled at his words, shocked for a moment and not knowing what to say.

Now he knew he'd hurt her. Again, it was the last thing she deserved. "I'm sorry," he said, hanging his head, tears burning his eyes. "I'm sorry," he repeated shaking his head. "I didn't mean to get angry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

He felt her reach a hand to his back and leave it there. He was proving all too well the point that she was trying to make; he needed to deal with the grief inside of him before it tore him to pieces.

"That's not what I was going to say at all," she said and her voice was now starting to become saturated with her own emotions. "I would never reduce your pain in that way. I'm just saying I...I miss my partner and...and I want him back."

Her tone was so open and less reserved than it usually was. She didn't conceal anything at the moment, not her loneliness or her need for him. She was being vulnerable for him. He wished he could to do the same for her. He wasn't even sure how to respond. Her friend, her partner, the Henry she knew, might be lost forever.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered. He hadn't really meant to say it out loud but it was so quiet he wasn't even sure if she had heard it or not.

"Henry...Abe came to talk to me."

This quickly captured Henry's attention. He turned towards her, clear interest on his face. "When?"

"It was a while ago. Actually, it wasn't that long after you and I met."

"Wh-what did he say?" he asked desperately. He was eager to hear what Abe had spoken.

Jo paused for a moment remembering that past conversation. She was hit by a wave of her own grief as she remembered Abe. He'd always been so kind to her and she missed him too. She was also conflicted about what she had to say. She didn't know what it was she carried but she knew somehow it was going to cause Henry even further pain. It didn't even make sense to her but she knew that Henry would be able to fill in the blanks and it would make perfect sense to him. Even knowing only half the story it still felt heavy to her.

She had to struggle to keep her voice calm when she finally spoke. "He came to me and he told me you had a secret. He said it wasn't dangerous to anyone but you. But because of it you had to keep people at a distance. He said you would want to tell me but that you would feel like you couldn't."

Henry was nearly overcome hearing these words that Abe had shared with Jo. "He said that?"

"Yeah. He also said that...after...you know after he was gone you were really going to need someone. Because he was the only one who knew the truth and you needed someone else to know. He said you wanted to trust me but that you'd been really hurt by people you trusted in the past and you just didn't know how to anymore."

"I can't believe he said that to you," he said thinking about her story, new words from his son, new information about him, when Henry thought there would be none. Abe had known him so well. He really had understood and he had been so kind to Henry. Abe had never told anyone about Henry's secret. What he'd told to Jo had been the closest that Abe had ever come. Though it was far from being full disclosure Henry had never expected Abe to even say that much to anyone.

It proved to Henry just how painful the secrecy had been to Abe. His secret must have weighed so heavily upon his son. He bore so much responsibility in being Henry's son. It must have been so difficult to be the only one to know Henry's secret. After Abigail left them, Abe would have had no one to confide in about the struggles and trials he faced in regards to knowing Henry's secret. Henry had known that Abe wanted him to tell Jo. So many times he'd asked Henry to tell her. Henry had always assumed that was for his own benefit, but now (when it was much too late) Henry realized that it would have benefited Abe too. Abe also would have had someone else to confide in. Henry wished so deeply that he had shared that secret with Jo while he'd still had Abe with him. He could have relieved some of Abe's stress. But he'd chosen instead to leave Abe in secrecy, and it had worried his son so much what would become of his father after his passing that he'd done all that he could even when Henry had left his hands tied.

All the while, Jo had known. For most of their friendship she'd had this knowledge, that he had a secret, one he kept from her and she'd never said anything. She'd not investigated it or forced him to tell her. She'd not left him. His head, in addition to his heart was now spinning as he thought about it.

"You...knew I had a secret? All this time, you knew?"

"Well, to be fair Henry, I don't think that would come as much of a surprise to anyone. You're a very secretive person and you kind of stick out. I think everyone assumes there's more to you than meets the eye. Abe just kind of confirmed it for me. "

"Oh..." he said. Had he more thought to devote to that he would have to reconsider his walls and ponder how he might rebuild them since they were apparently ineffective. But thoughts of preserving his secret were buried so far under other thoughts it didn't even register at the moment. "But you never said anything. Why didn't you ever bring it up?"

"Well, I tried to get you to talk to me. I tried to show you that you could trust me. But I didn't want to force you into anything; I wanted you to _want _to tell me whatever it is."

Henry could feel himself crumbling. Like an avalanche that starts gradually as small pieces falling slowly before it plummets down fast and all at once he could feel the pieces of himself starting to come undone. That was the thing though; he already _did _want to tell her. Why didn't he just do it already? Maybe a desire to tell her was never the thing he had lacked. Yes, he wanted to tell her. He wanted that a lot. But would she accept him? That was the real question. Maybe that had been the real question that had needed answering all along.

Jo slipped her hand into his trying to give him strength. It felt so natural; it belonged with his. He held on to it in return. "Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything?"

"I'm afraid it isn't that easy," he admitted, though he already felt himself swaying in that direction. "Abe was just a boy when he found out. He accepted it well, he adapted quickly because he was so young. He practically grew up with it being a normal part of his life. He sometimes forgot that isn't always the case. An adult won't accept this so easily."

Jo's brows creased as she considered Henry's words. What he had just said was odd. It didn't make any sense. How could Abe have learned a secret about Henry when he was only a child? Henry wouldn't have been born for another several decades. But Henry's trust was delicate thing. She knew she couldn't rush him on it and she didn't want to say anything that might jeopardize her earning of it. So, she didn't probe him with the questions that were already filling her mind. She waited instead for him to come by the revelation on his own.

But he didn't continue speaking. He squeezed her hand and she could practically hear him contemplating what he was going to do, what he was going to say to her. She could almost feel the longing to do it in his touch. She was relieved to find that he wanted to talk to her. Even though she had been patient and had waited for him to be forthcoming about his secret that didn't mean that she hadn't wanted to know what it was. She had wanted to know what it was very much.

She knew it was difficult for him though, for some reasons that she did not know. She searched for some words to say. She really wasn't very good at this sort of thing. It was always hard to know what to say to grieving people and, as with almost everything else, Henry was even more difficult to figure out. Of course, he was also worth every bit of the effort.

She was still wracking her brain with what she was going to say when she caught sight of a piece of paper in one of Henry's hands. Upon further consideration she realized that it wasn't a piece of paper but a photo and an old one at that. Desperate for anything to grab at for conversation she took the opportunity.

"Is that Abe?" she asked, pointing to the picture that Henry had in his hand.

Henry looked at the picture for a moment. He had forgotten he was even holding it. It was a mistake that normally he would never have made. Usually, he wouldn't have had one of the old pictures out with him in public and he certainly wouldn't forget he had it in his hand. But the truth was he just didn't care anymore. Nothing seemed important any longer including the preservation of his secret.

How could anything matter now? He was all alone. He had already lost a wife and now he had lost a son. The second was even more painful than the first, a fact he never would have dreamed was possible until it had occurred. He had no one in this world and though there had been a time when he had lived in solitude he knew he could never go back to those days. Abe was right; he did need someone.

Remembering these new words from his lost son were what finally sent him over the edge. He should have done this so much sooner, if not for his own sake, for Abe's. And he had failed at that. He'd made Abe's burden unnecessarily hard with his stubbornness. Abe had trusted Jo. Even after only knowing her a short time he had entrusted her with this responsibility; the responsibility of looking after Henry after he was gone. Shouldn't that be enough for Henry to trust her as well? Abe was smart and a great judge of character. If Henry hadn't been so stubborn he'd have remembered that sooner.

At any rate, he knew he had to tell Jo. All reasoning aside, he was now blinded by his grief. Jo had said once that he had no self-preservation skills but that hadn't been completely true until now. Henry was all alone now and he suddenly felt desperate for Jo; for her friendship, for her company. He needed it completely and the only way he could have that was without the lies between them. With Abe gone he _did_ need a confidant and he wanted it to be her. If he couldn't have that from her then he truly didn't care what else followed. If she didn't accept his secret he would just leave. He no longer had anything else to make him stay and he wouldn't be able to bear it here if she rejected him.

Jo watched Henry as he appeared to ponder something before handing the picture over to her. Jo took the picture and looked at it. It was old, brown and white and crinkled with age. She would have expected this from a picture that was as old as Abe. Something she didn't expect was the other person she found in the picture with Abe. In the picture there was a toddler, Abe she assumed, being held by a man that appeared to be Henry. Though the image had faded some over time it was undeniable that the man holding Abe was a complete likeness to Henry.

She gapped at the picture, not sure what it was she was seeing, because what she thought her eyes saw couldn't be real. The man in the picture could be a family member of Henry's. This could have been Henry's grandfather or great uncle. Sometimes people in the same family resembled each other so much it was hard to tell who was who. That would be the logical explanation. But as logical as that explanation would be she didn't think that was the case. This man didn't just look like Henry; he looked exactly like Henry. He would have to be a twin of Henry's to resemble him this much. Plus, the smile on the man's face also gave argument to her logical explanation. The way the man was smiling, that was Henry's smile.

The picture could be a fake but she didn't think so. She knew that there were amazing things that could be forged and edited in pictures. A fake could even be aged to be made to look authentic. But she didn't even consider that for a second. That would take a high level of decent and though she knew Henry kept things from her and told her half-truths she knew he would never blatantly set out to deceive her. Especially at a time like this.

Looking at the picture she would have to assume that the child was Abe and Henry was the one holding him but that couldn't be true. Abe was just a child in this picture which meant it was taken over 60 years ago. But how could that be since Henry, who was only supposed to be in his thirties, was in this picture too?

She stared at the picture for a while. She wasn't even sure how long. She almost hoped she would see something different if she stared at it longer, something that would make sense because this really didn't make sense. She was hesitant to look up at Henry. If she thought she was at a loss for words before, it was nothing compared to now. When she looked up she found that Henry was looking at her, studying her reaction. She reminded herself of Henry's current state of grief and the precariousness of earning his trust. She hoped the chaos she felt inside did not show on the outside.

"Henry?" she asked, begging for an explanation but unable to make herself voice any of the questions in her head.

He gestured for her to turn the picture over. She felt nervous for some reason but she turned it over slowly. Written on the back, in Henry's handwriting, were the words "Me and Abe 1948."

She stared at the words for a while. As innocent as it might look to anyone else it was a confirmation of the crazy conclusion she had arrived at. "I don't understand," she said, and she heard a waver in her voice. She desperately tried to force the emotions down. She had to be strong for Henry now; she couldn't lose it herself.

It took Henry a few moments to answer. He couldn't believe that he was about to tell her the truth. Though he'd made the decision to tell her his secret the words still weren't easy in coming. He didn't have even close to the amount of energy he needed to reveal the whole truth of his secret. So, instead he turned back to what he had wanted to tell her when she'd first arrived, what he had wanted her to be able to understand ever since he'd lost Abe. He'd never planned to tell her like this. But then again he'd never expected to be without Abe either.

Jo could see there were tears in Henry's eyes and his lip quivered slightly as he got ready to speak. She found herself holding her breath as she waited and she placed her other hand over the top of their joined ones. "Abraham wasn't just a friend of mine," he said looking at her. "He...he was my son."

The confession was too much for him. These words were the last push that sent him over the edge into his grief. All this time he hadn't been able to actually voice his loss and finally doing so had made it real. More real than he would ever want it to be. He didn't even wait to see what her reaction would be. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he collapsed. He pulled away from her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands as he started to cry.

"He was my son and I had to lie about it most of his life," he said mournfully, his face still buried. "I had to make him call me Henry when all I wanted was for him to call me dad. I could never tell people what he really meant to me, how important he was to me. Even, ever since he died...people still didn't know. They knew he was near and dear to me of course. But no one knew that he was _my _boy, that he was my _baby_." The words spilled out of him briefly but now he was spent, the declaration had taken everything he had left and sent him hurdling down into a pit of despair he wouldn't be able to come out of on his own. He let himself be consumed by his sobs. He couldn't even bear to see what Jo's face might look like. Could he survive her rejection right now if that's what he got?

Jo pressed a hand to her mouth containing a cry of her own as she watched Henry dissolve into tears. She had a million questions; her head was actually spinning with them. What Henry was saying couldn't possibly true. Henry couldn't be Abe's father. He just _couldn't. _It was impossible and unbelievable on so many levels. At any other time her mind would have gone into problem solving mode right now, working out all the reasons why this couldn't be and finding an appropriate explanation instead. She'd be able to see the facts as they were unclouded by emotions. She was a detective; it was what she did. She dealt with reason and this was unreasonable.

But right now she found that her mind did not go there and her heart didn't even want to. It was completely broken for her best friend and the sight of him so sad. She had never seen Henry sob and it crushed her inside. This was the unreserved display of despair of a person who had had finally reached their tipping point.

Grief was a strange thing. At first it leaves you in shock. You expect your emotions to react suddenly at the start. You assume you'll cry right at first; you feel guilty when that doesn't happen right away. You loved this person and you assume you should be upset from the very moment you learn of their loss. But that isn't what happens at all. You find yourself numb, unable or maybe unwilling to feel what you know you should be feeling. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, the thing that made it possible to get through those first few days. But then there comes a moment, an instant when something happens, maybe something that seems completely unrelated and you crack. Everything you knew you should be feeling all along comes spilling out all at once. She could well remember when that had happened to her, after Sean's death. And this, right now, was Henry's moment.

She knew what was happening to him now and could imagine, at least in part, how he might be feeling. Her loss was so recent she could easily recall it and she ached to know that Henry was going through that. Somehow, telling her this truth had sent him over the edge. It had to be a lie but how could it be a lie? A lie wouldn't be able to cause him such pain. Why would he even lie at a time like this? How could he lie at a time like this? There would be no reason for Henry to make up what he had just told her. In fact, she was pretty sure that someone in the depths of grief like this couldn't make up such a thing.

She found herself believing what Henry had told her. In this moment, it was actually hard to doubt it. Henry was absolutely devastated. What she was witnessing right now, she had seen before. It was the grief of a parent, of a father, who had lost a child. She'd delivered that awful news so many times before and watched as they came to terms with it. It was unlike any other loss. She'd had to tell people of a loss of a loved one of all kinds of relations. But the grief of a parent was so different and so much greater than any of those others it was easily distinguished and recognizable. And this was exactly what it looked like.

She wanted to know so much more but now was not the time to ask questions. Even if she were callous enough to ask them at a time like this (which she was not) he wouldn't be able to answer them. There wasn't much that made sense right now, so she simplified it down to what she did know for certain: Henry was her friend and he was hurting. Right now he needed her to be there for him and that was all that mattered.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I do," she said quietly.

She hoped it was the right thing to say. She just wanted him to know that she was there for him. She certainly hadn't expected to have this conversation and she wasn't prepared for it at all. She was relieved when he quieted for a moment and looked up at her. He stared at her for a moment and she felt nervous under his scrutiny as he searched her face for something. Tears filled her eyes and she let them this time, letting herself show some of the pain she felt for him. He looked so vulnerable right now, so breakable and she only hoped that he found what he was looking in her. She felt a tear fall out of one of her eyes but she held his gaze until he broke it, leaning his face against her shoulder as he fell against her. She wrapped her arms around him and held his as he cried some more.

"It wasn't fair to him," he said, now that the words were out and she hadn't rejected him they seemed a little easier. "All those years, it wasn't fair to him. I didn't want to do it."

"Abe knew how much you loved him. I'm sure he never doubted that for one second," she said with certainty as she hugged him.

"What am I going to do Jo?" he asked pulling back to look at her. He looked so desperate and lost. There would have been a time when she would have thought it wouldn't have been possible for the man who always seemed to have it together. But here he was, lost and looking to her for guidance this time. "I don't know how to live without him."

What could she offer him now? From experience, she knew that there was no right thing to say to a grieving person. No matter what anybody said it wouldn't make things any better. Words wouldn't bring their loved one back and that was the only thing that would make things any better. She knew that there nothing she could say to Henry to make the loss of Abe (his _son_) any better. She also knew that there were so many wrong things to say to someone. After Sean died she was sure she'd heard them all. So she understood that there were a lot of things that she could say to make it worse. She was at a loss.

"I just want to die," he added, closing his eyes.

She knew the feeling. She'd had that same thought many times in the days, weeks and even months following Sean's death. She still felt it from time to time. It never went away. It made her so sad to know it would never go away for him either.

"I know," she said shaking her head in understanding and pulling him to her again.

"I feel like...I've died inside. How can I ever be alright when...he's gone forever? I'm never going to see my Abraham again."

Henry talked so tenderly about Abe that Jo actually forgot for a second that there was no way Henry could be Abe's father. She was lost in the affection in his words. He _had_ to be Abe's father with the way he talked about him. She had always known that Henry cared about Abe. But she had never known how much he had loved him. All of that love and all the loss he felt now that he'd lost him all came out, strong in his words. This was the first time he'd been able to express them and they were potent from being store up.

"How am I going to get through this?" he asked quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

Jo remembered back to the day she'd had that conversation with Abe. There was something that Abe had said that she'd not mentioned to Henry. At the end of the conversation, Abe had suddenly turned even more serious. He had gripped her hand and looked deep into her eyes, his almost desperate as they searched hers out. "Jo," he said his voice begging for her attention, "he _needs _somebody."

He'd already said that, earlier in the conversation, but not like this. This was different. What he was saying had more meaning behind it. There such an urgency in it. She had not understood at the time what he had been talking about. She could feel the weight of some burden that Abe had carried. He'd wanted to say more, she could see that. But he'd been bound, the secret not his to tell. But even without divulging it he had wanted her to agree to something. She had nodded her head, not really knowing what to say, not really knowing what she was agreeing to.

What she did understand now was he had been asking her to take his place. He had been passing the responsibility of caring for Henry on to her. He'd wanted to give her the gift of being Henry's confidant. She still didn't understand exactly what the secret was Henry had; she knew there had to be a lot more to his story. But she did understand the responsibility and the privilege that Abe had entrusted to her. He had known the full story, whatever it was, and he had trusted her with it in the future. He must have thought she could handle it. It touched her and she resolved to live up to that trust.

Abe had been worried about what would happen to Henry when he was gone. He knew he wouldn't be around forever and yet he somehow knew that Henry still would be after he was gone. Now that she could see how lost Henry was without Abe she could see why he had been afraid of that. She knew she would stand by Henry and be there for him. She had, in fact, already agreed to it. She also knew it was the only decision she ever would have made.

"I don't know," she admitted, when she finally spoke. "But I know we'll figure this out. Together."

Henry pulled back and looked over at her. He searched out her eyes, looking for repulsion, rejection, anything like the terrible things he'd sometimes found before when he'd shared the truth. But he found none of that. He only found the safety he'd so longed for. "Thank you, Jo."

She did not know that she'd given him exactly what he'd been seeking: her acceptance. She still had so many questions. But she didn't want Henry to even try and explain them right now. She knew he would have to explain himself at some point and she knew he would. But for today, trust and acceptance and shared comfort was all that they needed between them.

**Be sure and follow to see what happens next and let me know what you think of it so far! **


	2. The Explanation

Ch. 2: The Explanation  


**I was blown away by the response I received for this story. A special thanks to all of those who left me a review and encouraged me. You guys are the best! Now that the secret is out (kind of ) it is time for an explanation…**

Jo waited as the elevator made its way down, eager for its doors to open and let her out at the morgue. It was Friday and the workday was over and though the weekend ahead was enough to put a smile on her face she had to admit the reason for its being there now was something else entirely. Henry had left her a message that he wanted to talk to her and she was glad. She hadn't seen him since last weekend and she'd missed him. Their partnership had always put them in contact regularly, and lately she had even gotten used to seeing him every day.

It had been three weeks since that day she had found him in the park. When she had walked him home after that day and had seen the state of his home she knew he needed some help. Naturally, being the independent man that he was he hadn't wanted to accept help. But he was also a smart man so he knew he needed it and had allowed her to help. So, for the next couple weeks she had visited him every day, going to his place after she got off work. She always made sure he got something to eat and had taken care of any chores that needed doing around his house. She knew he felt embarrassed to let her take care of those things since physically he was capable of doing them for himself. But she understood the difference and had continued to reassure him that it was alright.

She remembered those early days following Sean's death and how it had taken so much energy and effort to do even the simplest of tasks. Some days it had seemed like just getting out of bed was all she had the energy for. She would have liked to have had someone to help her out and probably would have accepted such help had she had a friend as good as Henry at the time. She was more than willing to be that person for Henry in his time of need.

Those weeks had been so hard for Henry. He'd really dug down into his grief and dealt with it. Sometimes, he wanted her there, seeking out her comfort when the darkness came over him. Sometimes, he needed to be alone and he would go off by himself to grieve. It had been difficult for him to do and it had been hard for her to watch. But it was necessary and it was helping. Though he was far from better, and would never be the same as he had been, he was on his way to healing.

After those two weeks he'd told her he thought he was ready and to handle things around the house on his own again and ready to go back to work. As someone who been on the inside and had watched his grieving she knew he was ready. She'd given him a full endorsement to the Lieutenant and he'd started back to work and she'd returned to her life as it was. Mostly as it had been anyway.

Though Henry had been back at work for a full week now she had not seen him. After more than a month off he had a mound of paperwork to deal with before he would be available to go on cases with her again. She had known it would be that way, and it would probably would continue to be that way for a while as he caught up but she still missed him. She had never thought her job boring but Henry left an impression and after having worked with him going back to working without him did seem almost dull.

The doors on the elevator opened and she walked to the morgue. When she walked inside she found Henry standing next to a body deep in notes. She couldn't help but smile as she approached him. It was great to see Henry here again where he belonged. She's known she had missed it but it wasn't until this moment that she realized just how much she had missed him being here.

"Hello," she said greeting him with a smile and getting his attention away from the notes he was scrawling.

He looked up at her. "Hello, Detective. You seem to be in a good mood," he said when he noticed the larger than normal smile on her face.

"I am. It's really good to have you back," she admitted.

"Isn't it though?" Lucas said, breaking into their conversation with huge smile on his face as he walked by. He gave Henry an adoring look, even more so than usual and for a moment Jo thought he might actually hug Henry. But if that was his thought he restrained himself. He walked away still looking as happy as a clam.

Henry smiled. It was the first real, genuine smile that Jo had seen on his face since Abe had passed away. "I missed you as well," he said looking at her a bit shyly. "It's good to be back."

"I think if you're not careful though, Lucas might pounce on you," she said in a jesting tone.

Now he even laughed a little. "He actually already took care of that. He smothered me as soon as I arrived on Monday. I told him it was alright given my long absence but I informed him it was not to occur again," Henry said in a mock serious tone. She could tell he loved it.

"I'm not sure why he would feel that way. Dr. Washington has such a 'sunny' personality. Surely, he's just as much fun to work with," she said joking back. She felt a pang of sympathy for Lucas. She had hated working with Dr. Washington in Henry's absence and she had only had to see him every once in a while. She couldn't imagine the torture it must have been for Lucas who had to work for with the man constantly.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Henry said faking ignorance but he knew exactly what she meant. And he was pleased. He liked being missed.

"Anyway," she said remembering the reason that had brought her here. "I'm getting distracted. You left me a message saying you wanted to see me?"

"Ah, yes," he said nodding. "I know its last minute but I was wondering if you had any plans for the evening."

She smiled. She was glad his question hadn't been work related. She was even happier that it appeared she might get to spend the evening with him. There had been so many times over the past week that she had thought to call him or see him but she had stopped herself. She was determined to give him some space so he could try and resume a somewhat normal schedule. She didn't want to hover or smother him. But it had been difficult. She worried about him a lot and she missed him. She was glad to see that the worries she'd had seemed to be unjustified. She was also glad that they were finally going to get to spend some time together again.

"No, unless you count a few hours with the DVR and some Chinese take-out as plans?" she answered with a smile.

He laughed slightly. "I don't," he said.

"I didn't think you would."

"As enjoyable as that sounds," he said playful sarcasm in his voice, "I wonder if I might be able to distract you from those plans."

"I might be able to be persuaded otherwise," she teased. "What did you have in mind?"

Henry suddenly looked nervous. "I thought you could come over and let me make you dinner. Allow me to repay you for all the help you've been to me lately."

"Henry, I would love to have dinner with you. But there is no need to repay me for anything. I was glad to help."

"Thank you," he said nodding his head, touched by the sincerity of her words. "But my reasons are twofold. I also thought we could talk. You know about…Abe. You know…about what I told you about me and Abe," he said quietly glancing around the room, unable to say more about it at the moment.

If Jo were honest she would have to admit that the questions had burned in her mind ever since Henry had told her that Abe was his son. She'd had so many questions that day and they had only seemed to multiply ever since. But she knew that Henry would have to answer them eventually. She remained confident that he would when he was able. But it had been such a precarious time for him and she hadn't wanted to upset his journey to recovery. He had been so distraught and fragile she just couldn't bombard him with a list of her questions. As much as she wanted answers she cared about Henry even more. That wasn't to say that she hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about it, even tossing and turning a few nights over the questions she'd had.

She was relieved that the time for answers seemed to finally have arrived. True to the faith she had placed in him he was coming out with it on his own. "Alright," she said nodding.

"Good," he said looking both a little bit relieved but also at the same time, much more anxious. She started to feel a little nervous herself wondering what it was that he was going to tell her tonight. "See you at say 7:00?"

"Sounds good," she agreed.

* * *

"Henry, that was a fantastic dinner," Jo said as she sat back a little in her chair, thoroughly stuffed. She had eaten entirely too much but that always seemed to be a problem when she came over. It was hard not to when the food was so good.

"Thank you," he said. "You're too kind."

"Not at all," she said honestly. "You must have been getting so sick of all the take-out I brought over if this is what usually have to eat."

"It isn't as if I cook this elaborately for myself all the time. And the take-out was perfect. If it weren't for you I don't know what I would have done," he said sincerely.

She felt her cheeks warm slightly. "Well, my heart is in the right place even if my cooking skills aren't."

"That I do know," he agreed warmly. "And that's more important than cooking skills anyway. I really don't cook that often myself. Abe always-" Henry stopped his breath catching suddenly as he remembered again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His face turned up in pain and he fell still, trying to fight it off. "It comes in waves," he said quietly shaking his head still keeping his eyes closed.

"It's alright," Jo encouraged gently. She reached out a hand and put it on top of his, running her thumb back and forth across his. Henry had started to heal but he was far from being at the place where the mention of Abe still didn't hurt.

"It just hits me so hard at times, even when I'm starting to feel good."

"I know. It just comes out of nowhere."

Henry was quiet for a few moments and she just sat with him. He seemed determined not to give into it this time though and she was surprised that this wave of pain seemed to pass relatively fast.

He opened his eyes and looked at Jo. "Speaking of Abe, that brings us back to the matter at hand," he said a little stronger but anxious.

"Right," she said agreeing. She had been waiting for him to bring it up ever since she had arrived but he apparently had been waiting until after their meal. Probably that was for the best. That nervousness she had felt in the morgue earlier now returned. Henry seemed so worried about this and it made her think she should be more worried about it too.

"You want to go in the living room? It's a bit more comfortable in there," he suggested as he rose from the table gesturing a hand in that direction.

"Sure," she agreed as she stood up and followed him.

There was already a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch; he obvious thought this was a conversation that was going to need the aid of alcohol. She felt her nervousness grow even more. It felt like this was going to be a pivotal conversation. What would change after they had talked? She hoped it would only be something for the better. It had to.

He let her sit down first and he joined her, sitting close but not too close beside her, as if he were trying to maintain some safe distance. It felt a bit awkward which was strange considering how many times in the past weeks they had sat on this same couch and talked and cried. She hoped that they wouldn't lose the closeness they'd formed recently. Though she hated the reason it had happened she was really happy for the closeness she'd gained with Henry.

Henry sat his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, looking very serious. "I'm sure you must have some questions, after what I told you about me and Abe," he said hesitantly.

He looked as frightened as a caged animal. She didn't like how afraid he seemed to be around her when lately he'd been so open with her. She didn't want them going backwards in the trust they'd shared. She smiled, trying to reassure him. "I would be lying if I said I didn't. Kind of have to be a curious person to be a detective."

Henry smiled. It was small but it was there. "But you didn't ask. You gave me peace while I was grieving and for that I am most appreciative."

"There are more important things than my curiosity."

He smiled, knowing it was their friendship she spoke of, and glad for it too. "Well, you deserve some answers and I am ready now, to answer your questions."

Every question Jo had had over the past three weeks seemed to fly right out of her head in that moment. Every time one of those questions came to her it seemed too crazy to actually voice and went back out of her mind again. She knew she'd had so many but right now she seemed to be left with only one.

"What you told me, about Abe being your son...Henry, is that really true?"

"Yes," he answered with honesty, looking at her seriously. "He really is. Really _was_," he amended with a pause clearing his throat.

Jo reached over and took his hand. "He always will be," she said giving his hand a squeeze.

Henry looked at her, his eyes shining with tears but he smiled at her. "Thank you."

There was a pause in the conversation and Jo could tell this was going to be more difficult than she had thought it would be. It was also then that she remembered the craziness of this situation. It was so easy to see how difficult the loss of Abe was to Henry and how he grieved for him that she realized she had already accepted their relationship as father and son as fact. She just couldn't doubt Henry in this.

But she still didn't have any answers about how it could be true. Henry was willing to give her the answers now she just needed to stay on track and ask them.

"How, Henry?" she asked.

Henry took a deep breath and his eyes took on a distant look. He was no doubt looking far into the past. It was a look she had seen many times before but one that only now made sense. "I adopted him in 1945. He was found among the remaining prisoners when Auschwitz was liberated. I was stationed in Poland at the time as a doctor and they brought him to me to check.

Henry paused to smile now. "He should have been hurt or sick. He actually should have never survived that long. They didn't even keep the babies in the camps. But somehow he had survived and he was completely unharmed. Everyone said it was a miracle and he was. He was my miracle."

Jo wasn't really sure what to say. She wasn't sure what she had expected to hear, something normal she had supposed, but this was even farther from normal than she had expected. It sounded like a story one might read out of a historical novel. Or a history book. And yet, somehow this was Henry's life and it had been Abe's too. The timing made sense for Abe's age and she remembered seeing the numbers on his arm. She had known what they were but the subject had never come up and she had never asked. But it was proof that Abe had been in a concentration camp at one time.

She was a detective so she was used to seeing things and needing proof. She was not used to relying on faith or the supernatural to explain things. She needed evidence. And though she would have thought that this story would have required her to just trust Henry at his word it didn't. The proof _was_ there. She had always wondered about Henry and Abe and their relationship. She had never really believed that story they had told her the first time she'd been invited to dinner with them. She knew it ran much deeper than family friends. It had been proof of something else and that something was this.

"That sounds amazing," she finally said shaking her head at the story.

Henry reached for an album that was sitting on the table and held it in his hands. His ran his hand over the old worn cover and it was apparent that he treasured it. He looked a little nervous and hesitant to open it up but also excited to share it with her.

Jo found herself longing to know more about this story. It was like she was getting to see more of Henry's heart, something she had been longing for for so long now. She'd always known him to be a caring man with a great capacity to love. It only made sense that he would have compassion on an infant, who was alone and had already in his short life experienced so much hardship. She knew he would open his arms and heart and to such a child.

The first picture he showed her was a picture of him in uniform, holding the then baby Abe. She found herself smiling at the picture and she saw out of the corner of her eye as Henry smiled too when he saw her reaction. It was Henry, again, undeniably him but in a WW2 uniform. But she found herself focused on the joy in the picture and not surreal setting. Henry was so happy. She was pretty sure she had ever seen him as happy as he was in that picture. Normally, there was always a bit a pain in his eyes, well concealed, but still there as if he was always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But for the Henry in this picture everything was right in the world.

It made sense to her now how there had always seemed to be such a depth to his character. All the skills and wisdom he carried around that suggested the years of someone much older than himself was because he had been living much longer than it seemed. She knew him very little, she realized and that made her sad. She knew a lot about him, who he was and his character, the things that really mattered. But she didn't know all the things, all the history, all the stories that made up his life. There were decades at least of his life she knew nothing about and she found herself eager to learn those stories. Right here in this picture was a story that was so much a part of him and she'd never known. She wanted to know what else had made him the man he was today.

She looked at him and nodded down to the book and he flipped the pages. At first the pictures were only of Henry and Abe. But then there was a woman in the pictures with them. Jo pointed at the picture asking a question though she didn't need to voice it and Henry nodded his head. "Yes. That's Abigail. She was a nurse also stationed there at the time. She was actually the one that found Abe and brought him to me. That's how I met her. And she was the one who told me I should adopt him.

"I tried to resist the idea," he said as she continued to look at the old pictures. "But I was done for from the beginning. I still can't explain it. He was my son, even though I had just met him. Somehow I just felt like I was his father. He needed me and I needed him too."

"And then you and Abigail were married?"

"Well, I tried to resist that with a little more persistence. I refused the notion of marrying her for a few years but in the end I saw there had been no battle at all all along. I had been in love with her from the start as well."

Jo flipped through the pages of the album. Most of the pictures were of Abe, some with Henry some without, some with Abigail. She watched as Abe grew older throughout them, the pictures documenting his life from infancy to the near present right before they'd lost him. She could see how Abe aged through the pictures. She also saw how Henry did not. Throughout them all he remained the same, always, never changing. The hair styles and the clothing changed but his face was always the same. The years passed by but they had not left one single mark him.

Almost all of the pictures were from the 1940's and on. But some of them were even older. There weren't many but there were some, pictures he had taken here and there with one important person or another. All of them people who would be long gone by now and yet Henry was still here. Jo studied the last picture in the album which only contained Henry in it. It was blurry and of low quality but she could tell that it was still Henry. His styling made him look different but once again she could not deny it was him.

"That was the first picture I ever had taken," he offered when he noticed her studying it. "Cameras had only recently been invented. They weren't very common and having a photo taken was pricey. But it was an interesting new invention and I couldn't resist."

Jo suddenly shut the album. She saw the slight smile on Henry's face fade. He worried he'd already said something wrong. She slowly set the album back on the table and gripped her knees with her hands not feeling very well all of sudden. She had almost started to believe Henry's story, that he was Abe's father. It was crazy but with the proof in front of her it had started to feel real. She kind of wanted it to be real. But that last picture was very old. Much older than the 1940's even. She was beginning to understand there was a lot more to his secret and that this was about to get even harder to believe.

Henry noticed the change in her attitude and her silence when she came to the end of the album. "What are you thinking?" he asked, worry in his voice.

"You're...not really 35 years old?" she asked chancing this as her first question. It was a stupid question since it was so obvious he wasn't 35 but she just felt she had to ask it. She had to have him confirm it before she could go any further.

Henry didn't make her feel silly for asking the question either. He gave her a straight honest answer. "No."

She leaned back away from him for a moment, thinking before leaning forward in close again. "You're not playing some sort of trick on me are you?"

"What?" he asked surprised at her question.

"Is this a joke? Are you trying to see if you can fool me?"

"No. Of course not. I wouldn't do that to you."

"That's really your grandfather or something right?" she said a bit of desperation in her voice. "It's just someone in your family that really looks like you and you're trying to make me believe it's you."

She was giving him an easy out if he wanted it. He was pretty sure he could agree with her and she would drop it. He knew how hard it was to accept this reality, to give up one that made sense, in exchange for this one that didn't and didn't offer any explanations either. He could see she was starting to believe him but it scared her. She didn't want to face this life and she was trying to turn away. She wanted him to deny it. He hated to make her have to accept this but he knew they couldn't go back. Not now. And for once he didn't want to either.

He took her hands and looked at her. "It really is me."

"But it can't be," Jo said, tears coming to her eyes for some reason. She wasn't quite sure why she felt like crying. She couldn't quite identity anything she was feeling exactly. She was just starting to feel overwhelmed by it all.

"I mean, when you say that Abe was your son…I believe it," she said looking up at him. "I shouldn't believe it but I do," she said disbelief in her voice that she really did believe it. "I see how much you love him and there isn't any way I can doubt it."

She was surprised that there was suddenly so much relief in Henry's face. She felt her distress building as this conversation went on but he appeared to be growing more relieved. "Thank you for believing me," he said sincerely.

That wasn't exactly what she had expected him to say. There was so much gratitude in the way he was looking at her it was like he had never expected her to believe him. But that was not the part she was struggling with the most. "I do believe this story of you finding and adopting Abe and being a solider in WW2 but…the pictures just continue they get older and older…" she said her voice trailing off. It sounded too crazy. She wanted to believe this but there was no way it could be true. She shouldn't let herself get attached to an idea that just couldn't be.

"You can ask your questions," he encouraged quietly when she didn't continue. "It's alright."

"But they sound crazy."

"That's alright. They have crazy answers," he said with a smile.

She returned it nervously. "O.K." she took a deep breath and began, starting simply. "So...you're a lot older than you look?"

"Yes," he agreed patiently.

"So, what? Are you on Aterna or something?"

He laughed remembering the drug they'd investigated on one of their first cases together. "Uh, no. I might act like I have holes in my brain at times, but assure you I'm not going to mess with anything that has such dire side effects."

She laughed slightly at his attempt to lighten the mood. "But to be Abe's father you would have to be, what? At least 90?"

"Ah, yeah at least," he said uncomfortably.

"You're older than that?"

"Just a bit."

"What? 100? 120?" she said stretching the limits of how long a human life could go.

Henry looked nervous before he answered. "I'm…I'm," he cleared his throat "235."

"235?" she repeated with disbelief.

"Yes."

She nodded her head, her forehead crinkling in concentration as she attempted to chew on that fact. "So, so, you were born when, exactly?" she asked unable at the moment to do the math herself.

Henry swallowed hard before answering. "1779."

"Oh. O.K.," she said nodding her head furiously as she looked down at her lap.

He looked at her nervously. "Are you, really?"

"Of course," she said. Henry could tell she was trying to be, but she wasn't at all. He always expected his news to be ill received so this was nothing new but he watched her with caution as she processed this new information.

She reached for the bottle of wine on the table and poured herself a full glass. "I mean, you just told me you're like more than two centuries old...which is humanly impossible but that's fine it's...really truly fine."

She then proceeded to down the entire glass in her hand in one go. Henry watched her anxiously like s_he _was the crazy one. Maybe she was. She knew she was starting to spiral; she could feel it. She sounded hysterical and she felt it too. She suddenly wished she had something much stronger than wine in front of her. If she were drunk maybe she wouldn't know that she was going crazy. At any rate, she would care a whole lot less.

She started to pour another glass and she saw Henry start of make a move towards her but he stopped. Maybe he was going to try and stop her but he had decided (and wisely so) not to. He should have known anyway not to put alcohol in front of her when he was planning to drop news like this on her.

She thought about her situation as she knew it as she downed the second glass. She had believed Henry when he had first told her that Abe was his son. She shouldn't have but she did. Somehow, she had never doubted that. Surprisingly, Henry's grief over the loss of his child was all the proof she had needed to validate that point. And she had believed his story about how he had come to adopt Abe. It was unbelievable but it wasn't so far out of the normal for her to wrap her mind around.

But the fact the he was 235 years old was absolutely inconceivable. She could have maybe reasoned some explanation for his youthful face even if he had said he was 90 or 100 years old. It would have been hard but people did live that long and they had seen people look much younger than their age when they had worked that Aterna case. So even though that had all been extraordinary to consider it was plausible. But people did not live to be over 200 years. They didn't. That was impossible. What did the world even look like when Henry was born? She couldn't even consider it.

Finally, Henry could bear her silence no more. "Do you believe me?" he asked clear nervousness in his voice.

"No."

"Are you sure?" he asked. She was still there and still listening. She hadn't bolted yet and that was much more than could be said of some that he had told his secret to before.

"No," she admitted.

He smiled slightly at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "This can't be true," she said. "Henry, people don't live to be 235. They just don't."

"I know."

"So…how can you?"

"I don't know. I don't age. I'm stuck being perpetually 35. Never getting older. But I don't know why."

It was unnerving for Henry to say that he didn't have any answers. He always had answers and when he didn't he sought them out. But she could see that even though he truly believed what he was saying, he really didn't know how it could be possible. She could see he wasn't withholding the information from her; he didn't have it to give.

"So, you don't age, at all?" she said repeating it, as if to solidify it in her mind. What was Henry becoming to her? She didn't want to lose Henry as she knew him. This was all so crazy and she was fearful that this was going to change everything.

"No," he confirmed to her again. "I wish I could offer you an explanation. I really do. But I don't know why I don't age. I've tried to find answers but they have eluded me."

Jo resisted the urge to grab the bottle off the table and drain it of the remaining liquid. She already felt like she might throw up which was probably mixed parts of having drank those two glasses so fast and trying to stomach Henry's news. Her head was starting to swim too, like reality itself was shifting around her.

"You were born and aged normally until 35? Everything was normal until then?"

"Yes."

"But why 35? What's so special about that age?"

Henry suddenly looked nervous, no _frightened_, at her at her words. There was more, even more to tell her and he was afraid of this part. That meant it was about to get even worse.

"What?" she asked urgently. "What is it?"

"Well," he said looking down. "I was 35 when I…"

"When you what?"

"When I...died for the first time," he said difficultly looking up at her.

"What?" she asked, her eyes widening. "Henry what are you saying?"

"I died in 1815, when I was 35."

"What do you mean you _died_?" she said standing up suddenly and glaring at him. "How can you have died when you're still here?"

Henry stood up beside her. He reached out his hands like he wanted to touch her. But he hesitated, leaving them cautiously outstretched between the two of them. "I know this must be hard to believe," he started to say but she soon cut him off.

"Of course, it's hard to believe! It's impossible to believe! What are you saying? You died and came back to life?" she said, starting to pace slowly around the room.

Henry followed her, leaving a safe distance between them. "Yes."

"So, what? You can't die? Is that what you're telling me?" she asked. She continued to walk slowly around the room, focusing on the floor. Things were definitely spinning now, like her mind was starting to detach from her body. She wondered if she might actually be in physical shock from the news. Is this what shock felt like? She worried for a moment that she might pass out. She always thought it was overly dramatic when people said that but she was beginning to feel like it might actually happen to her.

"Yes, Jo. I can't die. Well, that isn't entirely true," he amended. "I can die. I just can't stay dead. Every time I die I come back. I die and then I wake up again."

"You've died _multiple_ times?" she asked, pressing her hand to her head. She had to be going insane. None of this was true.

Henry paused for a long time before he answered, like he was afraid to answer her question. "Yes."

"How can this be true?" she asked almost demanding as she whipped around suddenly to face him.

"I don't know!" he said desperately. He looked as if he might cry, overwhelmed himself with this conversation. It had started off so good but things were turning for the worse quickly. It was starting to go the way he always feared. "I wish I did but I just don't. That's why I became a ME. That's why I have all that weird stuff in my basement. I've been studying death so I can try and figure this all out."

She could tell that Henry was just as desperate for answers. But this was too much. She was completely overwhelmed. She'd had weeks to process Henry and Abe's relationship and she'd just barely come to accept that. But all this new information that he'd thrown at her was too much to bear. "I've got to get out of here," she finally said, almost to herself.

When she looked at Henry there was pure terror on his face. She could see the longing on there as well. He just wanted her to understand. Or at least accept what he was saying. Tears were definitely in his eyes now, just ready to spill over. She felt bad about that. He had cried so much lately and she didn't want to be the reason he was ready to now. But this was all too much. If she didn't get some space soon she was going to lose it entirely.

"Jo, wait," Henry said desperately reaching a hand out in the air towards her, wanting to beckon her back.

But she backed up a few more feet her hands held out as if to hold him away. "Henry, _please._"

"Don't leave," he begged her.

"I just need to get some air. I've just got to be alone for a few minutes. To think about this."

"Wait. Just let me-"

"Please, Henry. Just…please," she begged almost desperately as she rushed out of the room.

As hard as it was he decided to let her go. He sat back down on the couch heavily. The room was unbearably silent and lonely without her. He allowed himself to cry but for the first time in weeks Jo wasn't there to comfort him. She was gone and all that was left was to wait and see if she would return.

* * *

Jo didn't go downstairs and out away from the shop, as Henry assumed from his place on the couch. She went up and to the roof instead. It was cold, really too cold to be up there without her coat which she hadn't even thought to grab. She shivered but it was good. The biting cold helped to sober her a little and ground her a bit. She looked over the side, down on to the street below as she gripped the rail, trying to get a grip on herself. Below her, people scurried back and forth. Normal people with normal lives. People whose lives made sense, who weren't being forced to accept an impossible reality like she was. Her head spun and she forced herself to breathe normally.

She glanced back, briefly at the vacant table and chairs that were set up on the roof. This was where they'd had dinner the first time she'd been invited over. Her and Henry. And Abe. It was the memory of him that kept her from running right now. Honestly, that was what she felt the impulse to do. Everything Henry had said seemed so impossible on its own. She felt like she was incapable of accepting it and she just wanted to run away from it. But then she remembered Abe. Remembered that day he had spoken to her, of the request he'd had for her. She had seen that Abe had been weighed down, that he had felt heavy with some secret. A secret of Henry's that he had known but one he could not speak of. Is this really what he had known? Had he actually accepted all of this?

Jo thought about all the questions she'd had about Henry ever since she had met him, all the things about him that had never made sense. She'd always known he was hiding _something_. She'd known that from day one. She just hadn't known what it was. She could have found out if she really wanted to. She knew she could probably have figured it out if she had done some investigating. At the very least she could have found out enough to confront him on it and get him to tell her the full truth. And she had thought about it, briefly, when they had first met and she'd investigated his home. But as soon as she had gotten to know him, after that first case when she decided she wanted him as her partner, she had chucked the idea out. Whatever Henry was hiding she wanted him to tell her, willingly. She knew he wasn't a criminal so whatever it was could wait.

But even with her firm decision to wait those oddities had continued to pop up and remind her that there was more to him than he let on. There had been his interaction with Abe and how it had always hinted of something more than just family friends. There had been his odd style, tastes and habits and his aversion to anything modern that seemed suggest he belonged in another time. He had always talked as though he had the wisdom of an old man, certainly that of someone much older than himself. There had also been his need for privacy and the distance he kept from others. Even as she had felt them growing closer he had still concealed so much of himself for her as well. But she had brushed it all off as eccentricity for the time being, just so she could live with the numerous questions that surrounded him. She had always known there was more to it than that but she'd always hoped he'd explain it himself.

But the biggest point that came rushing to the forefront of her mind right now was his complete lack of self-preservation that had worried her on more than one occasion. How many times had he asked to be shot or had walked in front of a moving car? He'd done it without even caring too which had worried her immensely. She had been concerned he might have been suicidal; he didn't care if died because he wanted to die. But that wasn't it. It was because he had known he _couldn't_ die.

All of those things that had never made sense about Henry now made perfect sense. Nothing else in this new reality seemed to make sense but those things she'd always wondered about now made sense, those questions could now be answered. The secret he'd just shared with her and everything she'd know about him seemed to support each other. He'd always seemed much older than his years; it was because he _was _much older than his years. He'd always acted as if he was invincible; it was because he _was _invincible. He had seemed to belong in the past because he'd been born in the past. It all fit together.

But how could Henry's life fit in with what she knew about the world? It was impossible, wasn't it? A person would have to insane to believe that they were immortal, wouldn't they? She allowed herself to consider for a moment, that Henry was actually crazy. Would that change anything? She was slightly surprised to find that it wouldn't. Maybe it shouldn't surprise her since he'd always been eccentric to her and maybe a little crazy. But now as she really considered, really thought about it and made a decision on the matter she found that it would not drive her away. Even if she had to visit him in a padded room she knew she would still want to spend as much time as she could with this man. She knew she was too deeply connected to him to walk away; she was too far to even want to try. With a prick in her heart she realized, maybe for the first time, that she loved him. She could never leave him.

Of course she knew that he wasn't crazy. Abe had known about this. This had been the secret he had known and he had believed it. She should allow herself to believe it too. He'd had a whole lifetime to think it over and still he had arrived at acceptance. He also must have known how unbelievable it all seemed because of the way he had urged her to stay with Henry.

Jo remembered the true terror in Henry's eyes when she had left. He'd been terrified, she could see. He was afraid of losing her. He was still so close to his grief, having already lost Abe and now he thought he would lose her too. She didn't want to lose him either. When she simplified all of this mess down it came down to one question: was she willing to lose him over this? Her answer was no. And she wouldn't lose him.

She remembered how Abe had told her that Henry wanted to trust her but that he'd been hurt in the past and didn't know how anymore. Tears came to her eyes as she considered it. Had Henry told someone and they hadn't believed him? Or worse had someone left him because of it? Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the need to be there for him and a desire to stand by his side. She didn't want to abandon him or betray his trust. He had chosen to tell her and trust her and she wanted to show him that it had not been ill placed.

* * *

"Jo," Henry said, obviously relieved when she came back into the living room. He stood when she entered the room but he didn't approach her. He was clearly trying to give her space and allowed her to join him. "Thank you for coming back."

"Of course. I hadn't planned on leaving," she said as she sat back down on the couch.

"Of course not," he agreed as he sat with her though she knew he had thought that was exactly what she'd been doing. He smiled, trying to put on a brave front but she could tell it was only an act. She thought about how painful it must be to do that all of the time; never getting to be yourself, always having to pretend everything was fine, always having to wear a mask around others. It must be unbearable. His eyes were rimmed red and she felt awful. She hated herself for not handling his news better.

"I'm sorry," she said and those tears she'd had on the roof were back. "I really am sorry."

Henry eagerly pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around him and she felt as he stroked the back of her head with his hand. "It's alright. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I just…I should have handled this better."

"You are doing just fine," he said sincerely. "You're doing great actually. Really you are."

She sighed as Henry held her. She never wanted to give this up. "This is just a lot to take it in. It's a lot to believe in," she admitted.

"I know," he said gently nodding his head. He pulled back so that he could look at her. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is so hard. But Jo I...I _trust_ you."

Jo was startled at his declaration. She wasn't sure there was anything else more meaningful that he could have said. She wasn't even sure it would have meant as much if he had said he loved her. This was that and so many things all wrapped up in one. His trust was the thing he held most closely to himself. It was the last thing he ever gave to someone. And she could tell that he really meant it when he said he'd given it to her.

"I don't know if I deserve your trust," Jo admitted letting some of her fear set in. She knew that Henry's trust was something he hardly ever gave to anyone and it was something he never gave easily. She understood now why that was. To be handed a secret such as Henry's was a great responsibility and she wasn't sure she had earned the right to it.

Henry nodded his head slightly, considering what she was saying. "Do you plan on telling anyone what I've told you?" he asked.

"No," she answered suddenly with feeling and certainty. She was shocked to even consider such a thing. "Of course I won't."

"Do you...do you plan on leaving me?" he asked, looking in her eyes. This question was a lot more difficult for him to ask; there was a lot more at stake in this answer. There was so much insecurity in his voice and he let her see a bit of the fear in felt in receiving her answer.

Jo paused before answering. Henry deserved an honest answer and she wanted to make sure that when she answered she was certain.

"No," she said, steadfast and certain, knowing what her answer meant and agreeing to it fully.

"No, what?" he asked. He was pretty sure of what she said but he had to be certain. Had she really just said she wasn't going to leave him? He had always thought she couldn't believe his secret. He had been so afraid she would deny him he needed to hear her say it again.

"No, I'm not going to leave you," she said with a small smile, trying to reassure the rest of his doubt away.

Henry took her hand in his and in true chivalrous fashion kissed it before looking in her eyes. "Then you, most certainly, deserve my trust."

There were tears in his eyes. Something told her that trust was not a gift he was able to give often. She could tell it was a gift he wanted to give.

"Well," she said tears in her own eyes too, "maybe I can believe you're 235," she said with a smile.

"Why is that?"

"Who kisses a girl's hand like that anymore?"

He laughed, really laughed and smiled at her fondly. "What can I say? I'm nothing if not traditional."

"What 18th century traditional?"

He was surprised, pleasantly so, that she was joking about this already. "Yes, something like that."

"I still think you might be crazy," she said, half a joke, half still the truth.

He laughed. "You're not thoroughly convinced of it? We're doing alright then."

"Well, I'm also equally convinced that I might be crazy."

"I can assure you, you aren't crazy." He pulled her back into a hug. Though he was joking now she could feel how relieved he was. She was relieved too.

"I can answer any more questions you have," he offered.

"I'm sure there is a lot more to tell. But I think I have heard about all I can handle right now," she said, feeling completely worn out from all they'd already gone through.

"Fair enough."

There was a pause before he spoke again. "I'm really glad I can talk to you about this. I really hated lying to you. I'm glad you know the truth now," he said so quietly it almost sounded like a secret.

There it was again. In Henry's voice there was sincerity. It was another thing to chip away at her reason and push her to yield to something else: faith. She always thought in facts and evidence but she couldn't rely on them now while still believing Henry. She had to trust him and lean on the strength of their relationship.

"Me too," she agreed with him.

Jo still wasn't sure she was ready to believe all of this. She also wasn't sure that Henry wasn't completely mad. But there was one thing she was sure of: she wasn't going to lose him over this. Henry was her best friend and always would be. And Abe was right; Henry _did _need someone. Henry had given his trust to her to be that person and she was going to do everything she could to be that person, even if it took her a while to accept this all. Because just as Henry needed her, she needed him too.


	3. The Proof

Ch. 3: The Proof

**Hey Everybody. I meant to have this up sooner but this chapter just kept growing and turned into the largest chapter of any story that I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of violence and death**

She had told him to stay in the car.

When they had finally tracked down their suspect her and Hanson had gone to take him down and she had firmly told Henry to stay in the car while they went after him. Backup was on its way but Jo knew they needed to catch this guy while they had him in their sights. The man was clearly the one they had been searching for in connection to a string of brutal murders. This man was dangerous so when she told Henry to stay in the car she had meant it. She had made sure to say it in a way that made it clear it was not open for discussion. Henry had looked like he accepted that.

Jo had thought he had anyway and hadn't suspected trouble until the end. Her and Hanson had lost sight of the suspect for a while but they had caught up to him just as the backup arrived and they had been able to take him down relatively easily. They had thought he was armed but after a thorough search they had found no weapon on him. The man was crazy, actually insane, so no one had thought anything of it when he had mumbled that 'that other guy' had taken his knife. No one except Jo that is.

Cold dread set into Jo's stomach. She told herself, she had nothing to worry about and she had to remain calm as they wrapped things up. But this was Henry she was thinking about. So, _of course _she had something to worry about. He never stayed put; of course he wasn't going to do what she asked him to. She tactfully made sure things were tied up as quickly as she could and made an exit. Hanson was riding back with one of the other officers so that left her free to return to her car on her own. After she was out of sight of the others she rushed back to the car, running as fast as she could so she could find that Henry was fine and alleviate her fears. But when she got there her fears weren't relieved; they were confirmed. The car was empty. Henry was gone.

Jo began a desperate search that lasted for at least 30 or 40 minutes, searching all the nearby streets and alleys. She didn't know how far Henry could have possibly gotten when he must have been on foot. The farther away she got the more she started to lose hope of finding him. She had finally decided to head back and continue her search by car, with help. She was already on her way when she heard a sound that made her stop, coming from an alley she could have sworn she'd already searched. She couldn't tell exactly what the sound was so she drew her gun and approached, but she was hopeful for anything that might lead her back to Henry. All the hope she'd had for Henry soon dissolved though.

She saw the blood trail first. It wasn't even concealed. It wasn't the sign of someone who had been dragged there and dumped by a criminal. It was much more suggestive of someone who had been injured and dragged themselves elsewhere. She looked ahead to where the trail led, seeing that it led behind a dumpster. There was a pile of trash behind the dumpster but the closer she got she saw a foot sticking out of the pile. She recognized the shoe.

"Henry," she cried, sounding strangled on its way out.

She ran the last few steps towards him holstering her gun as she went. She knelt down beside him and pushed the pile of trash off of him. She breathed out a sigh of relief when his eyes opened and he looked up at her, proving he was still alive. But the relief didn't last long. There was a mix of emotion in his eyes as they looked into hers. He smiled slightly at her; he was relieved that she was there and was probably trying to reassure her a bit too. But mostly he looked sad. He knew how bad it was. That's when she looked down and she couldn't stifle the sob that slipped out. His torso was completely soaked in blood coming from a very obvious stab wound in his stomach. It was all over his shirt and waistcoat and even on his coat. It was way too much.

She pressed a hand in vain to his stomach, trying to stop the flow of blood, even though she knew he'd already lost too much. She'd seen this enough times to know he really only had minutes left. His own hands were covered in blood as if he had tried to stop the bleeding himself but he was so weak now, his arms just lay still at his sides. She was pretty sure he couldn't even move. His face was so pale; there was absolutely no color left in his face and lips. She pulled his head into her lap and he groaned at the motion.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she started to stroke his cheek with her free hand.

"S'okay," he mumbled as he closed his eyes and sighed at her touch. She could see in his expression that he was just barely still there. He had been there for at least half an hour and he'd probably already be gone but she knew he must have been waiting on her.

She moved her hand from his face and he opened his eyes. She reached quickly inside her coat pocket for her phone but he reached out a hand and touched it, just barely shaking his head. His touch was so light; of course he couldn't fight her on it if she were set on doing it. But she knew what he was trying to tell her: it was too late.

He reached out for her hand and she took it securely in hers. "But-" she started to say.

"No," he said gently. He shivered and she gathered him more tightly in her arms. She gave up on pressing her hand to his stomach and just held him against her, his head tucked in against her neck.

"I told you to stay in the car," she said the tears already coming down her face. "Why can't you ever just listen to me?"

"I'm sorry," he said. Henry never said sorry, not like this. It was so sincere and so broken and he wasn't just apologizing for not listening to her. He was apologizing for what was to come. She was undone.

She wasn't mad at all. She brushed his face and hair and hugged him as tight as she could without hurting him, so desperate to soak up as much of him as she could. He let her, so glad she was there to be with him through this. He was used to death and knew what was coming but it was always scary and he hated to do it alone.

"Why did you do that, Henry? Why did you do this? That man was crazy. I told you to stay in the car for a reason." She shifted him in her arms so she could look into his face.

"I know," he said gently, gasping for breath. Even just talking now was a struggle for him. "I could see it in his eyes; that murderous intent. You never forget that kind of evil once you see it. He _was _going to kill someone; he'd already made up his mind. I wasn't going to let it be you."

"But why you? Why, Henry? Why?" she begged, as if it would change anything. She willed herself not to get hysterical because she could feel she was already heading that way. Henry was going to die and she couldn't bear it; she was terrified of it.

"I was going to stay, like you asked. But I needed to give you and Hanson time for the others to get there. You wouldn't have been able to take him down just the two of you without a cost."

"You don't know that," she countered weakly.

"No," he consented. "But I wasn't going to take that risk. The time I spent distracting him gave you a better chance. "

She gave out a humorous laugh. "_Distracting _him? You mean, letting him stab you?"

"I didn't want it to end like this. I tried to talk to him. But he wouldn't listen. I kept talking to him just to keep him here but that's when he came at me," Henry said starting to cough. He groaned and there was blood on the corners of his mouth.

Jo could feel that great chasm of grief inside of her, just ready to split open and destroy her from the inside out. She didn't want to do this again; she wasn't sure she could survive that monster again. "Well you shouldn't have done that," she said somewhat angrily. "Why do you have to be so reckless? You're so stupid sometimes. I-"

With great strength he reached up to touch her face. He wanted to hold her face but he just barely touched her cheek before his hand fell back to his side, completely spent. "Jo."

He said it so gently and she knew he understood. "Henry," she begged as she started to cry. "Please don't go. I can't...not without you...I just can't...I won't," she cried, her words stopping here as she began to sob hard now.

She wanted to stay strong but she couldn't help it. Henry couldn't die, he just couldn't. She _did_ love him; she knew it now. There was no question of it anymore. She needed him and she wanted him beside her always. He was such a good man and he deserved a much better ending than this, dying too young, stabbed and bleeding to death in a dirty alley.

Henry had never seen Jo like this. He'd seen her cry but he had never seen her sob like she was right now and he knew it was for him. It broke his heart to see her in pain. She'd already lost her husband and gone through the pain of that and he didn't want her think for even a second that she was going to lose him.

He realized that she still must not believe what he had told her. She didn't believe that he wouldn't stay dead. But he didn't blame her. The dinner they'd had together where he told her his secret had been weeks ago. He knew she had been skeptical of all he had told her, to say the least, and he knew it would take her a while to process it all. He had been waiting on her to bring up the subject again rather than trying to spring anything else on her that she wasn't ready for. He knew he'd dropped so much on her that he wanted to wait until she was ready to hear more. But the weeks had gone by and she still hadn't said anything about it. He figured she was probably still trying to deal with it in her own way. Maybe she was in denial. Either way, he had just been so relieved to still have her in his life that he was content to leave things lie as they were. She hadn't left him or had him sent away and he would be content with that even if she never spoke of his secret again.

The way she was sobbing right now, confirmed his suspicions. She really believed that she was going to lose him. He knew she had believed him at least partly but he didn't blame her for still having doubts. Immortality was a hard thing to believe in. He probably wouldn't believe it if he didn't live it himself. Even he sometimes found it hard to believe.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, trying to reassure her.

It didn't exactly break through to her yet. She didn't take his statement as a fact. She was sure he was only trying to console her. There was so much concern in his voice when he said it that it only made it worse for her. His facade of strength was chipped away and there was only his raw emotions underneath it. She could tell from the way he said it how much he cared for her, how much he wanted her safe. He didn't want her to be hurting even when he must be in agony himself. In the face of the fact that she was sure she was about to lose him she almost couldn't bear it.

When she lost Sean, she hadn't been there when it happened. He was gone before she ever even knew what had happened. Never getting to say goodbye to him had been excruciating. She had often wished that she had been there. But now that she was here with Henry, now that she knew that death was imminent and she was going to have to watch his life end, she was really not sure which was worse. Not getting the chance to say goodbye was awful but watching him die was going to be terrible.

Henry wanted to leave her to her sorrow and to her tears. He wanted to leave her to mourn and not force her to be strong until she could see for herself that all really would be alright. He didn't want to interrupt her but he could feel it coming. He could feel death pressing in around him, coming to take him from this place. He let out a shaky breath as the terrible fear set into him and he knew he would soon feel the darkness. He knew he was almost out of time and soon she would have her answers. Soon she wouldn't have to fear losing him. But first he needed her to know what was going to happen.

They hadn't discussed what happened when he died and though he had been giving her the time she needed, he now wished he'd brought it up sooner. He had told her that every time he died he came back. But he hadn't gotten around to explaining the reappearances yet. Now he only had time to explain the basics before he was gone.

"Jo," he said and he shifted so he could look at her better. He gritted his teeth as a wave of pain rolled through him. It got black around the edges and for a moment he was afraid that he had already waited too long. He was sure only sheer determination pulled him through. "Listen to me," he said firmly. "I'm about to go. You need to know what's going to happen after I die."

"Don't say that."

"Listen, please," he begged, the pain now nearly unbearable. "Remember what I told you? When I die I come back. Remember?"

She paused before answering, clear doubt in her face as she remembered. "Yeah."

"I am going to die. But I'm not going to stay dead," he said trying to reassure her.

He could see that it didn't really do the trick. Even if she believed him fully, he knew that it would still be hard. Saying you believed something and actually having to put it to the test, especially with the life of a loved one, are two entirely different things.

"When I die, I'm not going to stay here. I'm going to disappear."

"Henry, what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry I didn't get to explain it. But I need your help. Can you help me?" he asked trying to get her attention, needing her to listen and understand what he was telling her.

She had to breathe a few times to stifle the tears before she could answer. "Of course. Anything."

"I need you to go down to the East River. That's where I'll be."

"Why?"

"I don't have time to explain that," he said struggling to get the words out. He now desperately wished that he could have explained this part to her before this moment. "Please, it's a very cold night, so I really need you to be...punctual. You saw the location on the police report; when I was arrested for skinning dipping. That's where you'll find me."

"Henry, this..." she said shaking her head and struggling. She had no idea what he was talking about. He had said he couldn't die, that he always came back but she wasn't sure what all of this had to do with that.

"I know it sounds crazy. Unbelievable. And I'm so sorry you have to go through all this. I spared you as long as I could. But Abe was right; I _do_ need you. I can't do this on my own," he said the pain finally overtaking him.

Jo struggled to watch him as he recoiled with pain. He was holding on for her but she knew she needed to let go so he could. But how could she let go of him? How could she ever let go of him? She knew that he was asking her if she would be there for him. She was terrified to agree to it, knowing that once she did he would give in to the inevitable. But she did; she knew she had to. "Okay," she said hoping to relieve the pain at least in part even if caused her unending pain.

He did look relieved, relieved to have her support, relieved to be able to let go. "Good."

"Henry...Henry I," she paused. She wanted so much to say it. She never said it to him before. If she said it and she lost him it would make losing him even worse. But this may be her only time and she knew what it was to live with regrets. She would not have them with Henry.

"I love you, "she said quietly.

He smiled at her, actually looking happy despite everything else going on that moment. She smiled back and for a second she was happy too. It was significant, since it was the first time they'd spoken it. But the way they looked at each other, they'd both known it was already there.

"I love you dearly," he said with feeling before he took a deep breath. "I'll...see you soon," he said as his eyes started to fall shut.

"Wait," she said, terror gripping her. He could just barely open his eyes she said it. "What if don't come back?"

"I will always come back to you," he said mumbling his eyes closed again. He was fading and she wasn't even sure he knew if he was aware of what he was saying or not.

Jo held onto him as if she could keep him there with her just by gripping him tighter in her arms. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his. But it was only a matter of seconds before it happened. A breath left his lips but was not followed by another and he felt a little heavier in her arms.

She took a breath but before it could even leave her mouth again as a sob to mourn his passing...he was gone. She nearly fell on her face as his weight was suddenly lifted from her lap. She lurched forward, his body that she had been leaning over, now gone. She looked down at her hands, there was still blood on them but Henry, and every other sign of him, was gone. She looked around quickly but he was nowhere to be found. Had it not for the evidence on her hands she would have thought she'd dreamed the whole thing up. She got off the ground rather clumsily and ran as fast she could back to her car.

* * *

Jo honesty didn't remember the drive to the river at all. In her mind she had been getting in the car and the next second she was arriving at the river bank. Somehow she had managed to remember the location that had been on the police report when Henry had been arrested for skinny dipping but she'd done it all on auto pilot. Neither the details nor anything else mattered; only the mad hope she held on to that Henry could somehow still be alive.

It was so bizarre. How did these two events connect? He'd told her that when he died he came back but what did that have to do with his arrest for skinny dipping? It was then that she had to wonder: did that mean that Henry had actually _died _that night too? That thought hit her with a new wave of horror. Hadn't she known that something was wrong with him the next morning? He had been acting strange which would be expected of someone who had just been arrested for skinny dipping but he hadn't just been acting strange; he had been upset too. She'd asked him about it and he hadn't wanted to talk about it but now she knew that this had to be the cause. Just like so many of the questions she'd had about him it all made sense now.

Of course another thing she had to wonder about was her own sanity. None of this should make sense. She might find that she had entirely lost it. She would admit that she'd been in denial of it all really. She didn't feel as if she didn't believe Henry exactly. She didn't think he was lying to her it was just that she still hadn't been quite been ready to accept his strange life of his. She had told herself she was only taking time to process it before they talked about it again. She knew he must be waiting on her to bring it up but she hadn't. She had been working to deal with it all but it had started to feel like avoidance. Now she wished she had talked with him about it more.

As soon as the car was stopped and parked she jumped out and ran to the bank. She felt silly but just the hope that Henry might still alive was enough to make her do pretty much anything at the moment. She guessed she hadn't really believed him when he'd said he couldn't die because she had really thought she was going to lose him. She staggered around searching for Henry and tears started to fill her eyes again when she didn't see him right away. What would she do if he wasn't here? How could she survive it if he really didn't come back to life like he claimed?

"Jo?" she heard that familiar voice call her name and she turned and there was Henry. He was alive! He was dressed in a sweatshirt and pants and an old ratted coat and his head was dripping wet but he was not bent over and bleeding with a fatal wound. He was standing there as if he had never been harmed, well again, and _alive._

She ran at him and hit him with unnecessarily hard force. "Henry!" She practically clawed at his back as she grabbed onto him, clinging to him, making sure he was real. "Henry! You're here Henry!"

She was so relieved she felt like crying with joy. Henry was here; she hadn't lost him. It was true. Everything he had told her was true. He couldn't stay dead. He died and came back to life. He wasn't crazy. She wasn't crazy. It was all real.

She didn't know how it could be true but she didn't even care at this moment. She was so overjoyed to have him with her she didn't even care how it could be possible. Whatever caused this to happen had saved her from having to say goodbye to him tonight. And she couldn't be more grateful for that.

"Are you alright?" she asked still pressed against him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, though he voice sounded heavy and tired.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I guess…I didn't think that this was actually possible. I'm sorry. I thought I was going to lose you."

"It's alright," he said his arms tightened around her. "It's all alright now."

Jo burrowed her face against his shoulder but pulled back only slightly to look at him. "What's that smell?" she asked. She noticed the clothes he was wearing again. It was strange for him to have changed and he was wet. Had he been in the river? Where were his other clothes?

"Oh, uh, it's me. These clothes," he said looking down at himself, embarrassed. After Abe had died, Henry had stashed some clothes near the river. He hadn't known if he would have anyone to come and pick him up in the event of a death so he had tried to be prepared. "I had to hide them somewhere they wouldn't be found. Don't really want to think about where they were."

Jo wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Any other day it would have been funny. The usually well-dressed Henry in tattered, dirty, quite smelly clothes if Henry didn't look so upset. He looked so troubled for a minute that Jo thought he was going to start crying.

"It's alright," she said quickly. "Let's get you home and you can get cleaned up," she said wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leading him back to the car.

They drove for a while in silence. Jo's mind was going a million miles an hour. She didn't even know where she would even start if she spoke. What did someone even say to a person who had just died? There was obviously no precedent for that. She could hardly believe all was going on around her. Henry died in her arms, but Henry came back to life and now Henry was sitting next to her in this car, alive. She had seen some pretty strange things in her life. But she could say without a doubt that this was the weirdest night of her life.

Henry was the one to speak first. "You're quiet," he said tentatively. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Jo said quickly, almost manically and it was quite clear she wasn't. But he understood at least that she needed a moment before she could talk about it.

"Well, thank you for coming for me."

"No problem," she said. It was meant to sound carefree but it didn't sound that way at all.

They drove the rest of the way back to Henry's in silence. Jo followed Henry in and all the way up to his apartment. When they got into the living room, he turned and looked at her, looking unsure of what to do. "I, uh, I'm going to get cleaned up."

"Yeah. Sure," Jo said nodding. She glanced down at herself and her gaze froze. Henry's eyes also followed to see what she was looking at. There was still blood on her shirt and pants. It was undeniable proof that Henry had died, still there in front of them, not allowing them to forget about what had happened. She'd been walking around in a daze since Henry had died and come back, all of it too extraordinary to seem real, but this evidence brought hard reality and clarity to her situation. They were both silent staring at the stains before Henry finally spoke.

"I'll- I'll get you some clean clothes," he said his tone still heavy.

Jo was relieved. She suddenly felt desperate to get these clothes off. She had been so caught up in the events of Henry's death she hadn't really stopped to think about it. Now that it was still and quiet she was having to face the grim reality of it. She had been so relieved to find that he was alive, that he really did come back to life, that she'd forgotten the horror of losing him. Until now.

She stood awkwardly waiting until Henry returned. It didn't take long before he reappeared with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. "They'll be a bit big," he said as he handed them to her.

"That's fine," she said quickly taking them from him. The clothes were clean but they still smelled like him. In the back of her mind she found it interesting that he owned such casual clothes. She would have never guessed that he did. Had her mind not been so occupied by heavier thoughts she probably would have made a funny comment about it. But not tonight.

"Thank you," she remembered to add.

"Well, you know where the bathroom is", he said gesturing in that direction. "I'm just going to clean myself up."

"Alright," she said nodding and they parted ways.

When Jo got into the bathroom she went straight to the sink. She had wiped her hands off after Henry had disappeared but she hadn't been able to get all of the blood off them. She now had blood, _Henry's_ blood, dried to her palms. She scrubbed her hands more roughly than was necessary and dug under her nails under water that was hotter than it needed to be, desperate to get rid of it. She washed her hands three times before she could make herself stop.

She took off her shirt and pants and threw them straight in the trash can. She knew she could salvage them if she really tried but she also knew she would never want to wear those clothes again. Not when they were the clothes she'd been wearing while she'd held Henry as he had died.

She was at least clean now but she still felt far from put together. The evidence of Henry's death was gone but that didn't remove it from her mind. She gripped the side of the sink and took several deep breaths as the panic attempted to take hold of her again. She felt as if she were in a paradox that was shifting back and forth leaving her dizzy and unable to right herself. She could still feel the weight of Henry in her arms the moment he had died. She could still remember the sound of his last breath. He had died and she had lost him. But it had only been briefly. He was still here, she reminded herself, that hadn't been the end of it. She hoped that telling herself that would keep grief away. She took some of the fabric of the shirt she was wearing and held it to her nose. It still smelled like him and she breathed in deep, using the closeness of it to ground her. He was still here, she told herself again.

But even though the reality that he was still with her was sinking in better that did not fight off the grief of losing him. She still felt that, like it still needed to be acknowledged in even though he had come back to her after the fact. It felt like she still needed to mourn for him even though her mind told her that he was just in the other room. She had felt the need to grieve before so she knew it couldn't be ignored. She had tried that before and she knew it didn't work. But this time was different than other times, wasn't it? How could she mourn Henry when he was still here? It was all so terribly confusing. She wondered briefly if she was only being dramatic. This was so new to her but maybe she shouldn't have so many feelings about it. She didn't know how to make sense of it. The only thing she really knew was that she just wanted to be with him right now.

When Jo left the bathroom and walked into the living the room Henry wasn't there yet so she sat on the couch waiting anxiously for him. She started to shiver, only partly out of the cold, and she pulled her knees up, hugging her legs against herself. The miracle that Henry was still alive was so unbelievable she almost expected him to just disappear again. She couldn't rest until she had proof that he hadn't. She also knew that spending time with him was the only thing that was going to make any of this better.

She let out an audible sigh when he finally walked into the room. He had changed his clothes, looking much more like himself in pants and a button down shirt. His hair was still wet but he smelled strongly of soap so she knew that he had taken a shower. He looked so good and she felt a strong sense of longing just looking at him. She was so eager for him just to come and sit with her on the couch that she had to refrain herself from reaching out and pulling on him when he didn't immediately come over to her. She wasn't normally so clinging. But then again she'd never had to watch him die either.

He looked like he didn't quite know what to do. He stood, kind of restless, a few feet away from her. Even though she knew what she wanted to do, this was her first time experiencing this so she didn't know what he expected. She was looking to him to lead but he looked like he didn't know what to do. She would have thought he'd have been used to this but he didn't seem that way at all.

He noticed she was shivering slightly. "I'll make us some coffee?" he offered.

"Alright," she agreed even though she hadn't really wanted him to because he had to leave the room to make the coffee and that was the last thing she wanted. But again she felt that maybe she was only being melodramatic about this. Maybe his death shouldn't bother her at all because he was still alive. And she wanted to be helpful, to be what he needed in this situation. She didn't know how she was supposed to handle this but she wanted to be strong enough to handle this.

He came back soon with two mugs. "Thank you," she said taking one when he handed it to her.

He sat down next to her, leaving only a couple of inches of space between them. She had to force herself not to close the small distance, surprised herself at how affectionate she was feeling this evening. He gave her a nervous smile which she managed to return before they both fell into silence. They sat there for a long time just staring down into their mugs. She had no idea what to say what to say. But she was relieved to be next him.

"Tell me how you're feeling?" he finally asked after several minutes had passed. He really didn't like the silence. Every minute that passed only left him dreaming up more terrible scenarios of what might be going through Jo's head. He was afraid that even with everything he had already told her and everything she had said she accepted, that this would be the night when everything changed. He knew that until now she hadn't really believed everything he had told her. She'd been avoiding it, running from it. Even though he had told her he couldn't die, it hadn't been real until now, when she'd seen him come back after dying. Now she would have to face it as fact. Now she couldn't deny it any longer. Unless she were to deny him. He was suddenly terrified that he was going to lose her.

Jo looked down into the coffee mug in her hands and looked thoughtful. "I, uh, I'm not really sure. I don't really know how I'm feeling."

"That's understandable," he said trying to remain calm. It had been nearly sixty years since he'd had this discussion with anyone and he'd only ever had it a few times in his long life. It was never easy and time pasted since the last time he had done it had not helped it be any easier. He'd had this conversation before but every time it was like the first time; he never knew what to say and he never knew how each person would take it. "But are you...alright?"

"What?" she asked finally looking at him, disbelief on her face.

His nervousness only increased under her stare. He was sure that he had said the wrong thing already. How could he have messed up so soon in the conversation? "I, I asked if you were alright. You seem like you might not be."

"Am I alright? Am _I _alright?"

"Yes," he said, desperate to know how she was feeling.

"You're asking me if I'm alright, when you're the one who...who..." her voice trailed off and she stopped. She couldn't bear to say it. His expression for her was so concerned and on top of everything it nearly sent her over the edge.

Henry noticed the expression on Jo's face and he was starting to realize what she must be feeling. He had seen this reaction before and it was not the one he always feared. "Jo, what is it?" he asked gently.

"Henry," she said looking at him, tears already in her eyes, struggling to know what to what to say.

He put his hands on her shoulders, and rubbed them slightly. "It's alright to feel whatever you are feeling right now. You do whatever you need to. I'll try to make this as easy as I can."

"You died," she cried. "You actually _died._"

Voicing the words finally sent her over the edge. She started to sob, her whole body shaking with them. She hadn't wanted to do this. She wanted to handle this better, to be strong enough to deal with this. She knew, logically, that there was no reason for all of this when Henry was right there but that didn't stop the feelings she had and they overtook her. He took the mug out of her hands and set it on the table and pulled her into his arms. She rushed into his embrace, allowing his arms to hold her tight against him as she leaned against his chest and cried. His touch was so understanding and comforting and he didn't say a word as she cried.

She wanted the doubts to go away. She wanted the grief and sorrow to go away. She wanted to be able to forget what it felt like to lose him. She knew the doubts would go away. It wouldn't take long before her doubts that he was still alive fade. Just feeling his heart beat against her face was enough to send those lies away. And she knew that the grief and sorrow would go away too. The safety of resting in his arms was already healing her of that. But the knowledge of what it feels like to lose him, she knows that won't fade. She can never forget what it felt like to lose him. That's a burden she'll always carry with her. Death had a way of doing that. Even if it didn't stick she supposed.

Another thing that won't fade is how much losing him made her realize how much she loved and needed him. But that was something she was not completely sure she wanted to go away. Her love for him, her dependence on him, had surely been there for a while now. It wasn't as if they just appeared suddenly when he died. It was just that his death had made her aware of it. She hadn't known they were there until she couldn't ignore them anymore. Something had changed; she wasn't sure exactly what but was definitely there.

It felt so good to have his arms around her and she found herself getting greedy for more. She shifted a little so that she was a little closer against his side. She scrunched up so much and he was holding her so tight she was nearly in his lap. She pulled her arms from in between them and wrapped them around him, moving one of her hands around the back of his neck and pulling in down so she could bury her face there. His neck was so warm and she could feel his pulse and he was so _alive_. She was so grateful for it all she couldn't stop herself from kissing him there a few times.

She worried she had gone too far, that she had allowed her emotions to get the best of her, when she felt him stiffen acknowledging the touch. But it was only a few seconds before he melted against her and his arms around her back slightly to hold her even closer. She felt him rest his face against her shoulder and thread one on his hands up into the hair at the back of her head.

As she sought a little more comfort from him he allowed himself to get more from her. The tears she was crying were because of him. Those sobs were for him. She was mourning for him. It all broke through the wall he'd put up to help him stay strong and not get too emotional about his death. He could feel she cared about him. He drew on that and the feel of her body against him to help alleviate the effects of his death. He allowed her presence to chase away the fear and anxiety and sadness that always lay upon him following a death.

It had been a very long time since he'd had someone to help him like this, someone to mourn _with_ him over his death. It was always so heavy but he shouldered it all mostly on his own. It felt so good to have someone share it with him and he was so glad he had her there with him. This time the memories of the fear and pain and suffering of his death, and the memories of the darkness before his reawakening in the river, they all didn't seem as daunting with her here to help him. He was pretty sure now that she wasn't going to leave him and he was so glad because he needed this and he always wanted to have it.

"I really thought I was going to lose you," she whispered, still holding onto him but the sobs had calmed down enough for talking. "I'm sorry I had doubts."

She could feel him running his fingers through her hair, trying to sooth her even before he spoke. "Shh," he murmured. "Don't worry about that anymore. You were there when I needed you...that's all that matters to me. I'm just sorry you had to see that. I really didn't want you to have to."

"It's alright, now," she said. But it was so easy to remember that for a brief but long stretch of time, it hadn't been alright. One of her hands went down to rest on his stomach, reaching for the place where the fatal wound had been.

He must have known what her thoughts were and what it was that she was wondering. He pulled back slightly and she reluctantly loosened her own grip a bit. He unbuttoned his shirt and opened it slightly so she could see the place she'd had her hand upon.

Jo looked down at his stomach where the stab wound had been. She still expected it to be there. Even though he hadn't died she would have expected a scar at least. But it was gone without any trace like nothing had ever happened.

"It's alright," he said quietly and nodded, giving her permission.

Jo reached out a hand and placed it on his stomach right where the wound had been. The place that she had held her hand over less than an hour ago, trying in vain to stop the blood that flowed out of the hole there, was now smooth and flawless.

"Henry," she said disbelief in her voice as she stared at it. "How can this be?"

"I wish I knew. But I know nothing more about it than what I've already told you."

"It's just gone…like nothing ever happened," she says still shaking her head in disbelief. "Does it hurt?" she asked looking up in his eyes.

"No," he says shaking his head.

"I thought there would be a mark at least."

"None of them ever leave a mark. Except for the first one. That was the gunshot wound on my chest."

She remembered seeing the wound and him telling her he'd been shot. She looked up slowly to his chest where she knew it was. She reached up to pull back his shirt from that spot and when he didn't resist she pushed it back to reveal the damaged skin. It looked terrible, like it must have been an excruciating wound. Even just the scar looks as though it would hurt but he didn't flinch when she touched it lightly with her finger. She made a mental note to ask him about that later, wondering what the story behind it was.

Jo could hear his breaths coming out shaky just as her had been. She didn't know what he was thinking but the moment felt extremely charged and very emotional. As much as it was for her, it must be even more so for him. She was compelled her to set aside her own tears and think about what he was going through.

She was also aware of how much they were touching and how intense and intimate things felt between them. She wasn't used to seeing this much of him. After being so closed off to her for so long, it was strange to see him open up so much in such a short amount of time. She was pretty sure that he would let her see as much as she wanted; she could almost feel how desperate he was just to let someone in. She knew it had been a long time since he had been able to do that. Though she wanted to know more doing so right now feel like too much of an invasion so she forced herself to draw the line.

"I'm sorry," she said as she pushed his shirt together and pulled back slightly, looking down into her lap.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"For getting so upset."

He handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. "It's fine. Death is a hard thing to experience and you don't have to apologize for your response to it," he said as he buttoned his shirt again. The handkerchief was new and she somehow knew that he had brought it especially for her. He expected her to react this way and she felt a little better realizing that. She hadn't known what he had expected her but now that she knew he had thought it would be upsetting she felt better.

"But are you…alright? Listen to me," she said shaking her head frustrated as she dried her eyes. "Of course you're not alright; you just died."

Henry reached and took her hand in his. "I'm fine now. Really," he said reassuringly. "But you aren't, are you?"

She looked down and swallowed before she spoke. "It shouldn't bother me, right?" she said looking up at him, searching for guidance. Her eyes still sparkled with tears. "I mean...it's silly. You're sitting right there in front of me. You're not dead...but..."

Henry took her hand "It's okay," he said encouraging her.

"Why does it still bother me?' she asked."You're right here...and yet I can't get rid of that feeling of loss. I still feel the grief of it."

"It's been my experience, over the years, that just because the staying dead isn't real doesn't mean the dying isn't very real. Everything it brings with it; that's all still real."

"So it does hurt? You feel the pain and all of that even though you come back?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I come back and, physically, I'm healed but I still experience every one of those deaths. I still remember them; the fear, the pain…" he said his voice trailing off.

"It must be terrible," she said and she found herself putting a hand to his face.

He smiled, humorlessly. "It's not that great," he admitted. "But it's a lot easier when I have someone here with me," he said looking into her eyes and putting a hand over the one she rested on his face.

"How many times have you had to do that?"

"I don't know. I could if I really thought about it but I don't really want to know."

"And you did it again. For me," she said touched that he would endure that for her.

"Yes," he said with conviction. "And it was the right decision. I would do it again in an instant if it meant saving you."

Jo flushed at his words and had to look down. "You shouldn't have to go through that," she said trying to shake it off.

"Jo, being able to protect you, or anyone else, to exchange my life for someone else's is the only time that my condition feels like a blessing and not a curse."

She hadn't yet stopped to think about what all of this must be like for Henry. He felt it was a curse? Why did he feel that way? What made him seem so sad when he talked about something that most people would probably say they wanted?

Henry noted her silence and for a moment he was worried he'd said too much. He wasn't used to being able to be honest and he realized it was going to take him a while to find a balance. He didn't realize that he misunderstood her silence.

"You think it's...a curse?" she asked in disbelief.

"Well...yeah. Don't you?"

Henry looked at her, still expecting to see some revulsion in the way she looked at him. Now that she could see him for what he really was, wouldn't she see that it was going to be terrible?

"No," she said certainly, shaking her head.

He couldn't help but ask. "Why?"

"Henry," she said shaking her head a little, like she couldn't believe him at times. "If it weren't for this, whatever _this _is...you'd be gone right now. I'd have had to bury you," she said, her voice catching on the last word.

"Yeah," he agreed, still not seeing where she was going with this. Rejection was always a threat just lurking around the corner for Henry. He hadn't noted the look the awe and gratefulness on her face yet.

"So, if this is the only way that I still get to have you here with me...how in the world could I be anything but thankful for this?"

"I'm never going to get any older; I'm never going to die," he said, trying to make her see where the problem lay.

"And I'm never going to have to say goodbye to you."

Henry stopped and looked down. He'd been so sure that Jo would reject him. He didn't think she would believe him. He'd always thought she wouldn't accept this. He didn't know how much the fear of that had weighed down on him until this moment when it was coming off of him. The weight of it lifting off of him left him weak.

Jo not only believed and accepted the way he was. She was _glad _he was this way. He wasn't going to lose her. He was actually able to be honest with her. He did not know how much he had yearned for that, how much he had actually _needed_ to be accepted.

"You're crying," Jo said realizing why he was looking down.

"No, I'm not," he said defending himself without really thinking about. Now that she'd said he realized that he was.

"Yes you are," she said gently, taking a hand to lift his chin up. "What is it?"

"It's just…I thought I was going to lose you. I thought that, once you found out it really was true that, it just might be too much."

"Lose me, why did you think that?"

"When you found out, I thought…you wouldn't want me anymore," he admitted, allowing himself to be vulnerable, more than he had been in a very long time. Complete honesty was a foreign thing to him. Even though he found it terrifying, it was also really good.

"You thought I was going to leave you?"

"Yes," he admitted, like it was a dark secret.

Once again, Jo remembered how Abe had told her that Henry had been betrayed in the past. "Why is that?" she asked, inviting him to talk about it.

"It's a long story."

"I'm sure you have a few of those," she said smiling at him.

"Just a few," he said, a smile coming to his own face.

"I look forward to hearing them."

"I look forward to telling you."

A comfortable silence fell between them, for the first that night. "So, you're really alright with all of this?" Henry asked after they had both been thinking for a while.

"Alright with…what? You being immortal?"

"Yeah?"

She paused a moment then nodded. "Yeah," she said like it was something ordinary and every day she was agreeing to.

"I can't promise that it will easy sharing this secret with me."

"Who needs things to be easy?"

"Sounds like something Abe would have said," he said with a smile, even if there was a hint of sadness in it.

"Well, great minds think alike."

"He was always telling me that I could trust you. He couldn't have been more right about something. I should have listened to him. "

"Yes, you really should have" she agreed, with a fake stern face before it turned into a kind one again. "We're partners. Same as always. There is nothing that's going to change that."

"Yeah," he said smiling. "You're right."

And for the first time, Henry believed it himself.

**This was going to be the end but it seems my muse thought there needed to be an afterward. So there will be one more chapter where we check in on Henry and Jo one last time. That is steadily growing too but it should be up in a few days. **


	4. Afterward

Afterward

Jo walked up to the front door of the antiques shop and paused with her hand on the handle. She stared at the open sign, hanging in the window, the first time in months that it had been there. She'd thought she was ready for this day but she was surprised at the strength and mix of emotions she felt. She paused for a few seconds collecting herself and wondering how much more Henry must be feeling today. She strengthened herself and took several deep breaths before pushing the door open.

It had been months since Abe had died and this was the first day that his shop was open without him. At first, she hadn't been sure what Henry was going to do with the shop. For a while she hadn't even wanted to broach the subject with him, knowing that the decision would be difficult. She had been relieved when he had been the one to bring it up. The shop was too expensive to own when it wasn't making money so the only way to hold on to it was to have it open. Henry didn't like the idea of having someone else run the shop but he couldn't bear to sale it so he had decided to hire someone to run the shop. Besides, Henry knew that Abe wouldn't have wanted the shop to just sit there closed up, even if Henry had been able to afford that. Jo knew that it was going to be hard for Henry to watch someone else manage the store but she felt like it was the right decision and she knew he did too.

As Jo walked into the shop she found Henry hunched over the desk with Jerry Gibson going over some notes. Jerry was an old business associate and friend of Abe's. Before Henry had even begun the process of looking for someone to take over the shop, Jerry had approached him with an interest in running the shop. It had been a relief to Henry, who had dreaded the thought of trying to hire someone. He was glad that he was able to hire someone he knew and more importantly someone who Abe had known and liked.

Even still, Jo knew this day was going to be really hard for Henry and she was glad she had an excuse to get him away from it. While she was never happy about someone being murdered she was grateful that she had a distraction that would take Henry's mind off of it.

"Hello Jo," Henry greeted when he saw her walking in the door.

"Morning Henry. Hanson just called. We got a body. If you're up to it?" she asked.

Henry looked torn briefly, between staying and leaving. But he soon decided in favor of the latter. "Yes, I think the shop is in good hands. I'm going to head out, if that's alright with you," he said turning towards Jerry.

"Don't worry about anything, Henry. I'll be just fine."

"If you have any questions, I have, this...thing," Henry said holding out his new cell phone, unable to hide his distain for the object. "Please call, if anything comes up."

"I will," Jerry agreed with a smile.

Jo couldn't help but smile too. She had finally managed to persuade Henry to get a cell phone but he hated the thing. He may have one now but he did not try and hide the fact that he still did not want one at all. He had come up with several excuses against it when Jo had first tried to talk to him about it. But when he had hired Jerry on at the shop he finally gave in and got one knowing she was right when she said he would need to be a bit more accessible.

Henry still paused. He was no longer looking uncertain but there was definitely something under the surface. He hid it well but she could still see it, the pain he was desperately trying not to let on to. "Come on," she said tugging on his arm knowing he was going to need a little encouragement to get out the door today. "The scene's not far. It's such a beautiful morning I thought we could just walk."

He looked at her and she could see the weight of this moment for him. How she could have ever missed the depth he seemed to add to every experience just by a look alone, she would never know. She could clearly see now, how difficult this moment was for him and how emotionally charged it was, how it was about letting something dear go. But he gave her a brave smile, grateful for the presence she was right now and how she understood. "That sounds lovely," he said looking at her with gratitude.

"Alright then. We're off," he called out to Jerry as he followed Jo out the door and out onto the sidewalk. It was a nice spring morning. It was still a bit on the cold side but the sun was shining which made it feel warmer than it was. More importantly, walking would give them a little more time before they arrived at the crime scene, something Jo knew that Henry would need. They walked silently side by side for a while, neither rushing the walk or hurrying to fill the silence.

Jo thought about the way things had been between them the past few months. It was strange how nothing had changed and yet so much was different all in one. She'd been afraid when she first started to learn Henry's secret that it was going to change everything between them. She blamed this fear for why she had tried to ignore the truth of his secret when he'd first laid it all out for her. But after the night when Henry had died in her arms she'd had to face the facts of it. And it _had _changed everything, in a way, but not as she had expected.

Their partnership was still the same as it always had been. They worked together just as they always had, the perfect team, solving crimes that separated they never would have figured out. The only thing that had really changed in that respect was that she worried less about Henry. She no longer had to worry that his constantly reckless behavior would lead to his death. She no longer worried that his recklessness was a sign of his complete lack of regard for his life. She did worry now that if he did get himself killed someone might find out his secret, which was new. But the former burden had been so heavy that this new one hardly felt like one at all. She felt this new danger was a hurdle they could cross together if they had to where the former had been out of her control.

Their personal relationship, however, had drastically changed. While before they had spent only an occasion evening together they now spent almost every one together. It had started out, mostly because she had been worried about him and knew he had needed the company in his now empty house. But as the weeks had rolled on and Henry had gotten stronger and stronger neither one had been in a rush to change the arrangement. She still spent time at her own home but she almost always missed him when she did. She liked their dinners together and the stories that usually followed. There were 200+ years of his life he needed to catch her up on and little by little he had been attempting to do that. Though the first order of business had been explaining what happened when he died. She had teased him relentlessly when she found out that he came back in the river _naked_. Though she still couldn't talk about it without laughing, she really did take it seriously and she now kept of change of his clothes and a towel in the trunk of her car just in case. She now knew that she would be the one to get a call when he needed someone to pick him up.

There were lots of good stories like the ones when Abe was little. But some stories were difficult, like the night he'd told her about Nora and Abigail. They'd not slept much that night as he recounted the end of his two marriages and the dark fall out that had followed. Henry had had such a difficult life. He'd experienced so much more pain than she could have ever dreamed. She hadn't really thought it was possible but her desire to stay with him had grown even more on that night. She didn't know how he had ever gone through so much and turned out so relatively normal. She wasn't sure how he had made himself trust her after all that had had happened in his past but she knew she wanted to be there with him and help him though whatever was in her power to do.

Henry had seen so much history and she could hardly believe it at times when he told her first hand accounts of things she could only read about in history books. Sometimes he would have her blurt out a random year and he would try and recall what his life looked like that year. She'd had to brush up a little on history, since it had never been a strong subject of hers, just so she would have a better idea of what Henry's life had looked like over the years. Not that that she'd admitted that to him. Some nights they talked for so long she just ended up sleeping on his couch. That happened so often in fact, that she had finally taken to just keeping a pair of pajamas and a toothbrush at his house. She just liked being there with him. She had a place where she belonged again. Over the past couple of months being with him had started to feel like home and that was something she hadn't felt since Sean had died.

It wasn't even that the change between them was obvious. It was recognizable, barely, and every once in a while someone would comment about it. Someone would say something seemed different between them and they would pretend they hadn't noticed and didn't know why. But of course they both knew the truth. She could feel that something had changed in the way he looked at her and this felt like the biggest change of all to her. Now that she knew his secret she could feel the way he valued her. It wasn't that he hadn't before. But there had always been something in between them. He'd never been able to truly put her to the test, to know how true her feelings were for him until she knew who he really was. Now he knew she saw him, really saw him, for who he was. And he knew she really accepted him and loved him in spite of it all. There was a strong but unseen tie connecting them now. The thing between them was now special, a shared secret, not one between them. She gained his respect and his full trust and that had changed things.

And she trusted him too. She had known that she was worried about getting close to someone again. The pain of losing someone she loved had been so awful. She had sworn to herself she would never care about someone that much again. But she had for Henry without even knowing it. And now whatever became of her and Henry, one thing she knew for certain; he would always be there for her. She'd already came to care for him before she'd had that guarantee but having now felt really good. Henry never would leave her.

"How are you doing?" she asked, finally, breaking the silence after she felt she had left him to his thoughts for long enough. Henry needed time to think but there were times he needed to be roused from dwelling on those thoughts for too long.

He paused before answering her. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "I'm sad," he admitted. "That's Abe's shop. He should be the one in there. Not gone." His voice was sad and when she looked at his face it was too. She knew it was really hard for him to leave the store in someone else's care.

"But," he started to add and his face lost a bit of the sadness. "I can't do anything about that, no matter badly I want to. And Jerry and Abe were good friends. Since Abe can't be here, I think he would be pleased with this arrangement." Though there was sadness in his eyes there seemed to be a bit of peace there as well.

Jo nodded in agreement and then after a pause, nudged her way in under Henry's arm wrapping hers around him. He couldn't help but smile as he looked down at her tightening his arm around her. She always knew just what he needed. He marveled still at the way she always had the perfect word or touch just when he needed it most.

"I am fortunate though," he said. She looked up at his face as it turned thoughtful again as he stared in front of him. "I mean...I got to spend Abe's whole life with him. I got to see it all. Who gets that chance?"

"Only you," Jo said, smiling at the secret that only the two of them held.

"I'm not saying it should be that way; a parent should never have to..." he paused, his voice catching, "you know. But I got to take care of him and protect as much as was in my power to do so, until the very end. That was my job as a parent and, I think, being the way I am made me better at. It still hurts more than anything but...I suppose I can see the blessing in it too."

Jo smiled slightly. "He taught you how to do that."

He smiled at how well she knew him. "He sure did," Henry said remembering fondly. "And you remind me," he said smiling down at her. She smiled in return but glanced away in slight embarrassment, still getting used to the added affection in their relationship.

He had really under estimated the joy of having her in his confidence. Most of the time he couldn't even describe it except to say that having her in the know just felt right, in a way that few things had in his long life. He felt lighter having had shared the weight of his secret with her. Though he would usually feel guilty about the burden he laid on others when he told them his secret, he found her to be an exception. He still felt twinges of guilt at times because his secret was a difficult one to hold but Jo was strong; it was something he knew she could handle. And most importantly she wanted to.

It was so rare that someone could really see Henry. He could count on his fingers the amount of people who had really been able to look at him and know him since he became immortal. Even fewer were those who looked at him the way she did. Knowing that she could know him completely left him feeling exposed; a feeling he was accustomed to, and one that brought about feelings of insecurities. Normally, complete knowledge of him brought about a look judgment or repulsion in one form or another. But that was not the way that she looked at looked at him. She liked him still and loved him, despite it all. He hadn't known how much he had longed for her acceptance, something he could only really have once she knew his secret, until he had received it in full.

That first death after he'd lost Abe had been hard. It was the first time in decades that he had died without having him there and Henry missed the comfort and positively Abe always provided afterward. He'd died countless times before Abe had been born but he could never go back to having it be normal not to have to have him there. But he wasn't alone. It may not be the same and never could be but he wasn't alone. Jo was there for him and he was more grateful for that than he had been for something in a very long time.

As difficult as that night had been for both of them it had been a turning point. He and Jo had grown so much closer now that she knew. Sharing his secret with her had knit them even tighter together. How could it not? She was the only one who really knew him. Sharing something like that took them to a certain level of intimacy but he did not know what to call it. They were so far from being colleagues that it was hard to believe that was all they started out as. Even friends didn't seem to be enough anymore to describe what they were now. Family of some sort seemed to come the closest but he didn't think there was a proper title to describe what he and Jo shared now.

The depths to which his respect and devotion and loyalty to her in return had grown surprised even himself. He had long known himself to be a man who could only fall hard. He never did things in halves and the only way to keep himself from giving his whole heart to a matter, was to not care about it at all. So when she had believed him and chosen to walk with him on this crazy path he couldn't help but give everything he was to her. Not that he could go around and tell her that quite yet. He knew he could surprise a person with his intensity so he kept such declarations to himself for now even though he still felt them completely within the confines of his own mind. Though he'd had yet to tell her so he knew that whatever she could ever ask him for he knew he'd give her in a heartbeat, for she had already given him everything he wanted.

For one of the first times since he'd lost Abe he was struck, not by all that he had lost, but of all he had gained. He had her, more than he ever had before and more than he ever would have had had Abe not encouraged Henry to be honest with her. Abe had given Henry a priceless treasure. Just when Henry had lost everything, Abe had found a way to give him Jo, in a new way and in a new depth than he'd had before. When it seemed that everything in Henry's life was ending, Abe had given him the beginning of something new. Abe already knew his old man was too stubborn to accept the help but he'd found a way to make it happen anyway. Henry had always known he had a smart son but he was even more brilliant than Henry had known. He'd found a way to reach out to Henry, even beyond his passing, to look after him even after he was gone. It made what he shared now with Jo, even more special knowing Abe had made it possible.

Henry was quite certain now that had it not been for Jo he never would have survived the loss of Abe. Just when he thought the pain of it would consume him, she'd be there. Somehow, in perfect timing she would always show up or call just when he needed her most. Without her there he'd have been left to his own destruction. He had the dark times after Abigail to make him fear what he could have become. He'd even had Abe at the time and he was frightened by the man he'd become back then. What would he turn into without anyone? He was afraid to find out. And thanks to Jo, he wouldn't have to. A heart ready to love but finding no one to give it to was a dreadful dangerous thing but he hadn't been left with that after Abe's passing. He had Jo to care for him and for him to care for in return.

If there was one thing that Henry had learned from being allowed to be Abe's father it was so see how special every moment was and to treasure it. He'd placed some of the magic back in Henry's life that had started to dwindle over the years. He'd also reminded Henry that time wasn't forever. Henry's might be but everyone else's wasn't. If there was something to be said or done there was only a limited amount of time to do it in. Though there were things he felt he might need to keep for a later date there was something he knew he needed to tell her now.

He stopped suddenly and Jo looked at him curiously, wondering why. "You saved my life," he said.

She smiled at him. "Henry, you're _immortal. _That means you can't die," she said it with a tease but the seriousness of her eyes showed she knew what he really meant.

Though he was sure she knew the rest (just like she seemed to know everything about him) he said it anyway. She deserved that much. "I'm not talking about my physical life. If it weren't for you...I just don't know what would have happened to me," he admitted, simply put but it held so much meaning it in.

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening a bit at the feeling in his statement. "Right back at ya Henry," she said smiling.

They started to walk again for a while before she spoke. "Why do you think he picked me?" she asked.

He was surprised by the question, not quite sure where it had come from. "Well, he knew someone had to keep me in line; I can be a handful," he said with a half smile.

She smiled and patted his middle gently "Yeah, that's obvious," she teased. "But why _me__?_" she asked. "He took a pretty big gamble on me though. Don't you think?"

He was surprised there seemed to be a slight uncertainty still in her, especially with all that was pasted them. "What do you mean?" he said stopping and looking at her again.

"Well, he knew what had happened, in the past when you'd told people. I mean, what if I hadn't...how did he know I wouldn't..."she stopped, uncomfortable even saying that she might not have accepted him that she might have left him. She never would but how did Abe know that?

"I don't think so," Henry said confidently. "I don't it was a gamble at all."

She looked at him curiously. He would have to admit, he loved it when she looked at him like that, that _do tell _look. He loved that look of captivation and interest on her face, like the world was just as interesting to her as it seemed to him and like she could listen to all his endless ramblings about it. It was like a dare, a dare to surprise her and he never tired of it.

This time he had no tricks to dazzle her. He only wanted to tell her the absolute truth. "I think that he always knew what I had been too stubborn to see: that I can trust you. That you wouldn't leave me. That's all that really mattered. I never dreamed it could come down to just that. I thought it would be so complicated but it really was so simple."

Abe had always told Henry he should tell Jo about his secret. He had always made it seem like it would be so simple. It was complicated but in a way, it really had been simple. The details and all he had to explain seemed so complicated but trusting her with his secret had been simple. All it came down to was that she cared for him and how he could trust her. And if there were two things he could believe in this confusing world of his it was that.

She smiled at him, touched by his words. He hugged her tight and placed a kiss on top of her head before they started walking again. On to another crime scene. On to another day with her. All of it so complex and yet so simple. All of it, and life itself, so very wonderful again.

**That concludes "It was so Simple." I hoped you have enjoyed reading this story half as much I have enjoyed writing it. **


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